


Unknown Regions

by cystemic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen, i was unhappy with the rebels s4 ending >.>, the adventures of thrawn and ezra in hyperspace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-04 17:01:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17308412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cystemic/pseuds/cystemic
Summary: Ezra Bridger and Grand Admiral Thrawn, last seen hurtling into hyperspace from the Outer Rim planet, Lothal, journey to the far reaches of the galaxy. What will they find there and will they survive the trip?I dunno, lol.





	1. Chapter 1

Starlines streamed past the shattered view wall and Lothal's yellow sky disappeared, replaced by the billowing blue-black clouds of hyperspace. Opposing cosmic forces churned outside the Command Tower and Ezra grit his teeth, trying to withstand the pull. 

Debris from the damaged starship slammed up against tentacles and smashed over jagged shards of transparisteel. Unconscious Imperials were sucked out of viewports at alarming speeds and Ezra felt the pull too, dragging his feet out from under him. 

He concentrated on the Force, planting his boots and lowering his centre of gravity but it did no good. The swirling vortex was pulling him in and the life support systems were failing to generate enough artificial gravity or breathable atmosphere.

Thrawn grunted as the tentacles around him began constricting tighter. They glowed bright blue and soon, little but his head remained free of their cold embrace. 

"The shields!" he called out. "Activate the ray shields!"

"What?!" Ezra shouted over the din. The air around them was being sucked out through the shattered viewports, howling past his ears.

"The lever on the red control panel!" Thrawn shouted as tentacles swallowed him. "On your right!"

Ezra turned his head, gritting his teeth against the forces working against him. He squinted through the flickering lights and spotted the red control panel on a terminal up against the far wall. He breathed in, sucking at what little oxygen rushed past his mouth.

"How do I know this isn't a trap?!" he shouted back.

But the Admiral was in no condition to reply. The Purrgil tentacles glowed eerily bright and tightened around his diaphragm so that any reply was lost in a painful gasp.

"Karrabast!" Ezra swore. 

He lifted one foot up and plonked it down in front of the other. He turned right and began the incredibly laborious journey across the bridge of the Chimaera, dodging pieces of debris that were sucked into the inter-dimensional vortex, along with several unconscious Stormtroopers.

He grit his teeth and pushed through the pain, Forcing each step down until finally he reached the control panel. 

_"Okay, I just have to pull the lever and activate the shields,"_ he thought to himself, studying the mechanism. "Uuuuuh…."

The terminal had twenty six switches, thirty nine buttons and sixteen different levers on it and Ezra gawked, trying to figure out which one did what. He pulled the first lever but nothing happened, at least nothing he could see. 

"Okay, not that one," Ezra said and pulled the next lever to no immediate effect. "Where's Sabine where you need her..."

He turned back, fighting the pull of the hyperfield that was making him sick. He tried to call for help but the Admiral had fallen unconscious, disappearing into the swathe of Purrgil tentacles invading the bridge.

Ezra shook his head in frustration and the momentary distraction was enough to break his concentration. He lost his balance and the force pulled him off his feet so that the only thing connecting him to the bridge was the lever in his hand.

Ezra reached for the control panel, desperately trying to push his feet back down to the floor but it was useless. He stretched out his free hand, hoping with all of his might, that third time was the charm. And then his fingers wrapped around the handle and pulled it down.

Within seconds, the hum of energy shields engulfed the bridge, passing over Purrgil tentacles to separate them from the warped reality of hyperspace. The forces pulling Ezra toward the viewport disappeared and he fell onto the cold durasteel floor face first.

"Nnngh," he groaned, trying to lift himself up.

A long Purrgil tentacle snaked past, curiously probing the panel and then his face.

"Haha, thanks buddy," Ezra grinned, peeling the tentacle off himself. "I owe you big time."

A few of the tentacles unravelled around the Admiral and began exploring the bridge, eventually settling on the warmest consoles to relax.

Ezra got to his feet and tentatively tiptoed toward Thrawn, hands raised in defence in case he decided to try anything. But the blue-skinned alien was still unconscious and Ezra wondered for a moment if he was actually dead.

The young Jedi closed his eyes and reached into the Force as his master Kanan had taught. Feeling, not seeing or hearing as most would, through the universal web of energies that encompassed it all. He could recognise a minuscule spark of the living Force nearby, cold and dull compared to his own but it was there.

Ezra opened his eyes.

"Thrawn?" he said quietly. "Hey, are you alive?"

No reply. Not even a muscle moved on his stern blue face. And Ezra grimaced.

"Come on, you're supposed to be tough," he said irritably.

But the Admiral's head hung low, dark shadows spilling over his eyes. Long violet tentacles trapped his body, holding it upright and rigid.

Ezra considered what to do for a moment and then very hesitantly reached for his face. The ship rumbled and shook and Ezra quickly pulled his fingers back in fear. But it was just a speed bump.

He sighed and reached out again, holding two fingers under Thrawn's nose. 

Nothing. 

Ezra swallowed. Perhaps he really was dead? Or close to it?

But then wisp of air brushed past his fingers and Ezra sighed.

"Phew," he said, pulling away and wondering why he was so relieved.

He turned to look at the bridge.

Smashed equipment and durasteel doors. Scorch marks from missed blaster bolts on the walls and the floors. A lone Imperial cap lay on the walkway, wedged between pieces of the broken fuselage.

Ezra sighed. 

He always imagined defeating the Empire would look and feel a lot different than this. He expected parades and cheering and his family, smiling and standing happily beside him. But those were the dreams of a boy growing up on the streets of Lothal. He hadn't had time to dream up any more.

He took a few steps down the walkway, eyes searching for the emergency space kits. But everything was the same colour. Dark sheets of metal covered the walls and panels and terminals. He had to walk right up to them and read the tiny Aurabesh labels to get an idea of what they were for.

The oxygen masks were hidden in an alcove inside one of the cabinets and with a little effort, he pried open the container. There were about fifty units, all neatly packed and ready to use.

Ezra looked out over the bridge. It had been teeming with Imperials only twenty minutes ago. And now there was only one left. 

He pulled the tab and unravelled the mask as he walked back down the walkway and wondered, "Maybe I should just leave him here..."

He looked up at the Grand Admiral apprehensively.

Thrawn was trouble. Big trouble. Which would be true no matter where they ended up. And he probably wouldn't think too kindly of the young Jedi after seeing his fleet destroyed by a swarm of Purrgil.

Ezra frowned, hesitating as he slowly approached the mass of tentacles once again. Little more than Thrawn's head and shoulder remained free of their grip and he just stood there for a moment.

Would it be so bad to let Thrawn go down with the Chimaera? he thought.

Ezra stared at the mask in his hand. 

How many had died under fire from the Seventh Fleet?

The Rebel Alliance had lost the Massassi Unit, the Phoenix Unit and Commander Sato in a single battle. Only a handful of ships and the Ghost escaped Thrawn's wrath over Atollon, their base not withstanding.

His own planet, Lothal, had been blockaded by Thrawn's fleet, its citizens forced into servitude in his factories. And despite their best efforts to free the planet, it remained in Imperial hands. And it wasn't alone. 

How many more worlds were being subjugated by the might of the Empire with men like Thrawn at the helm of tyranny? How many people in the galaxy lived in fear all because people like Thrawn loomed overhead at the slightest stir of trouble?

Ezra looked up at the Grand Admiral.

Unconscious. Immobilised. Vulnerable.

When else would he get a chance like this? To strike him down, once and for all?

Yet, he hesitated. Something stayed his hand and clouded his mind with indecision.

Ezra sighed.

"What would Kanan do?" he thought sombrely, closing his eyes.

And the answer came swiftly.

Killing was not the Jedi way.

Ezra reached up and pressed the mask into Thrawn's face and activated the respirator function.

"I guess whatever happens to you, happens to me too," he said.

He took a step back and then another. He turned and faced the destruction his little adventure had caused. And then he left the bridge in search of another.

\---

Ezra spent the next hour exploring the Command Tower of the Chimaera. He wrenched open the damaged hatchways and wandered through the crumpled halls. Dark and cold like every other Star Destroyer in the Imperial Fleet. Except this one was held in the clutches of massive tentacled space whales, much like Grand Admiral Thrawn himself.

Panels and gratings hung loose and bent out of shape from ceilings and walls. Emergency lights flickered and distant sirens wailed somewhere far below. 

Ezra moved slowly, his steps impeded by the debris and then the bodies. More and more of them littered the floor. A gasket had blown, pressured by a great force outside the ship. And now, Stormtroopers lay crushed under giant chunks of durallium and officers lay black and ashen from the unexpected explosion.

Ezra swallowed. 

_"So many Imps,"_ he thought to himself. _"But I guess there's plenty more where they came from…"_

He kept walking, kept ignoring the devastation, looking for any sign of a med bay but he feared it would be somewhere deeper down. The bridge always sat on top of a Star Destroyer in the Command Tower and though it was heavily secured from the inside, it was also the most exposed part of the ship. 

Ezra hurdled a giant purple tentacle and kept walking. The Chimaera was a maze of corridors but the young Jedi had seen enough Imperial warships to know where to go. His stomach let out a low growl and he quickened his pace, searching for the break room. Even Imperials had to eat some time.

The intrepid young Jedi slid down a tentacle to the floor below and emerged in a janitorial closet that had been smashed beyond recognition. He carefully squeezed through the broken door and out into the corridor which was empty but for the wires hanging down from the ceiling.

He let the Force flow, let it guide him through the debris and came to a door that was surprisingly intact. He keyed the controls and the door slid open to reveal a break room. It was a sombre affair. Empty tables and chairs bolted to the floor; spilled caf and ration bars littered over them. Two bodies lay crumpled in the far corner.

Ezra sighed and went looking for food in the many cabinets, finding only more flavourless ration bars and vitamin paste.

"Freeze, rebel scum!" he heard a voice from behind. 

Ezra quickly turned to find himself cornered by an Imperial in uniform. He was holding a blaster but he wasn't a soldier, perhaps an engineer or a navigator. The red and black patch of the Chimaera was emblazoned on his shoulder under the Imperial insignia and his face was hidden by the low brim of a military cap.

"Easy..." Ezra raised his hands in surrender, wondering why the Force wasn't blaring danger signals to him. "I just wanted something to eat." He brandished the ration bar.

"What have you done with the Admiral?" the man said worriedly, strain prevalent in his voice.

"I haven't done anything." Ezra shrugged.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?" the Imperial sneered. "You and your Jedi tricks almost destroyed the entire fleet!"

"Well, you deserve it," Ezra said suddenly. "You Imperials have been nothing but a plague on Lothal. It's about time you got a taste of your own medicine."

The man laughed dryly.

"You think you can defeat the Empire?" he said condescendingly. "Lothal is finished. And it's all your fault." He raised the blaster.

"What are you talking about?" Ezra smirked

"The Empire isn't just going to sit back and let you take over their planet." The man shook his head. "They'll send someone else. Someone way worse than the Admiral."

"The Rebellion will beat them too," Ezra said confidently. "They'll free Lothal and the rest of the galaxy, you'll see."

"You don't get it, do you?" He shook his head again. "The Empire won't come to fight."

"What?"

"They'll come to set an example," he said. "They'll destroy Lothal. They'll kill every living thing on it and it's all your fault!"

Ezra could hear the concern in his voice; it wasn't the typical Imperial arrogance. He inclined his head and peered under the cap to find two terrified sapphire eyes staring back at him, sun baked skin darkened by shadows.

"You're... from Lothal, aren't you?" Ezra realised.

The man redoubled the grip on his blaster with a shaky hand and bit his lip.

"Why would you side with them?" Ezra asked, suddenly angry. "They ruined our home, killed innocent people-"

"Lothal was lost the moment Pryce Mining found doonium in the planet's crust," the man threw back at him. "Arihnda Pryce sold her land to the Empire and Renning sold them the rest, piece by piece."

"Pryce?"

"How do you think she became Governor, huh?" The man waved his gun around. "I saw the contract in the system. Total control of over one hundred and fifty thousand hectares of land. And she just _gave_ it to them."

Ezra tensed.

"Why didn't you stop her then?" he said angrily.

"I'm just a tech." He dropped the firearm and pointed at his chest desperately. "There was nothing I could do. My home was in the middle of that territory..." he trailed off.

"I only enlisted to protect my family. Thrawn promised to leave Lothal once he had enough TIE Defender prototypes."

"What?"

"Sienar Fleet Systems was tendering the contract to mass produce the damn things." The man sighed. "All the Empire had to do was sign off on the funding and then they'd leave Lothal. The doonium's all dried up anyway."

He shook his head.

"But you ruined it! You ruined all of it!" He pointed the gun at Ezra again.

"Hey, listen, buddy. Even without the factories, the Empire would never let Lothal go. We'd all be slaving away under them for the rest of our lives."

"At least we'd _be_ alive," the man said shakily and swallowed the lump in his throat. "My... my family would be alive if it wasn't for you."

"You're paranoid," Ezra said. "Just put down the blaster and let's talk about this."

"No! Tell me what you've done with Admiral Thrawn!"

"Honestly?" Ezra raised an eyebrow along with his hands. "He's hog-tied by Purrgil tentacles up on the bridge."

"What?"

"I came looking for a stimpack and a crowbar." Ezra's stomach let out a low growl. "And some food. But all you guys have are these stupid ration bars."

The Lothalian Imperial hesitated.

"He's alive?"

"Last time I checked." Ezra shrugged. He could see the man's hands trembling, holding the blaster, fingering the trigger.

"I... I can't let you go," he said. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Ezra threw his hands forward and pushed at the Force, slamming it into the Imperial before his blaster went off. He flew back and the shot hit the ceiling where a suspicious lump had been forming over the course of their conversation. And as soon as the bolt collided with durasteel, the whole thing collapsed under the weight of yet another massive tentacle.

Ezra jumped back in time to avoid the colossal thing but the man on the floor wasn't so lucky. More and more debris flooded into the room and Ezra skirted the wall and ran out the door, hurrying back the way he'd come. The sound of falling equipment and bending durasteel echoed through the hallways as he ran and spotted an opening in the ceiling. 

He used the Force to jump up high and reached the next level just as a group of Stormtroopers ran past below.

"Hey, you!" one shouted. But the collapsing ceiling soon caught up to them and Ezra continued to run. Soon, the destruction ceased and he slowed his pace, jogging to the end of the hallway which seemed to lead off into nowhere.

He hadn't thought this through. He hadn't thought any of this through. Especially what would happen when the Purrgil made off with a ship while he was still onboard. Despite the destruction, the Chimaera was still full of Imperials and the deeper down he delved, the more of them he feared he would find. 

Ezra's feet carried him slowly back up to the Command Tower. He pulled a ration bar out of his pocket and nibbled at it, assuaging his hungry stomach as he contemplated what the Lothalian Imperial had said.

The young Jedi didn't know what doonium was. Nor did he know much about property law or Imperial politics. He remembered something about Sienar Fleet Systems manufacturing TIE Fighters but the rest of his memory was a little blurry which probably meant he'd fallen asleep during one of Hera's longer briefings.

Was it true about Governor Pryce? he wondered as he polished off another ration bar. Was she really responsible for the Imperial takeover? And Senator Renning? He'd seen him on the Holonet a few times. He seemed like a decent guy. But that had been a long time ago.

The long and winding route through the Chimaera's halls brought him back up to the busted hatchway of the bridge. Or what remained of it.

Ezra stepped over the debris, hurdling a tentacle or two before returning to the spot where their journey had begun. The Admiral hadn't moved but his respirator was foggy which meant it was working.

Ezra sighed and kicked a few things off the walkway before sitting down to meditate. 

Kanan always meditated when he was unsure of things to come. Which was surprisingly often. Whenever his master disappeared, the young Jedi could always find him in the quietest place, kneeling and breathing without a word.

He tried to emulate the same position, the same expression, the steady breathing pattern, in and out. He could hear the hum of energy shields protecting the bridge from hyperspace distortion. The floor rumbled gently as they travelled through the galaxy, a hundred times faster than light. And Thrawn. Grand Admiral Thrawn was trapped on the bridge right in front of him.

"What do I do now, Kanan?" he said, expecting a wise word or a kind hand but there was no reply.

Ezra was on his own.


	2. Chapter 2

Thrawn came into consciousness an hour later. Light headed, nauseous, with a respirator mask attached to his face. He sighed weakly, unable to suppress a distressing cough that rattled through his battered airways. A sharp pain stabbed him through the chest with what he suspected were several broken ribs threatening to puncture his lungs. 

"Nnngh..." he groaned, trying not to move. 

"Mornin' Admiral," Bridger said pleasantly. 

Thrawn opened his eyes to find the boy sprawled on the floor, leaning lazily onto his arms. He raised a hand and gave the Admiral an abbreviated salute, a wide grin playing on his face. 

"You-" Thrawn tried to say but the word pulled another painful cough out of him. "Alive?" he managed. 

"Yup," Bridger nodded. "Turned on the shields like you said. And it was the third lever down, by the way. Thanks for telling me that." 

Thrawn breathed in, air struggling to reach his lungs. 

"S-survivors?" he wheezed. 

"Uuuh," Bridger rubbed the back of his neck. The tell-tale signs of guilt creased his face. He looked away. "I'm not sure. There weren't any up here." 

Thrawn closed his eyes, absorbing the pain before opening them. 

"I see." He inclined his head, resting his chin on the purple tentacle that constricted his chest. 

Bridger looked up at him curiously but then his eyes were drawn toward the shattered viewport open onto hyperspace. The shields were all that stood between them and oblivion. 

"What now?" Thrawn asked quietly. 

"Huh?"

"What do you plan to do now?" he clarified, his voice just loud enough to hear.

Bridger frowned, the aura around his face becoming cooler. "I've been thinking about it." He picked at the straps on his boots. "But honestly, I don't know." 

The Admiral studied him. His face, his words, his clothes, his movements. 

"You had no intention of living through this," he concluded.

"I didn't wanna die." He shook his head. "But I didn't want my friends to die more." 

Thrawn breathed in unsteadily. "Admirable sentiment, however thoughtless." 

"What?" 

"Your goals are not finite. And therefore impossible to accomplish."

"What are you talking about?" Bridger smirked. "We beat you."

"You may have defeated me and the fleet above Lothal, but you have not secured the planet's freedom-" He winced as a sharp pain lanced his chest. "The Empire will not ignore this slight."

"We'll fight back," the boy said with conviction.

"Against the Emperor?" Thrawn said, trying to breath deeply. "Against his every agent and fleet?"

He looked down at Bridger.

"Do you think your friends are capable of withstanding the full might of the Empire once it is unleashed upon Lothal?"

Bridger swallowed. 

"You're in no position to threaten me." He smirked and sat up to cross his legs. 

"It is too late for threats. I offer simple logic." Thrawn paused to breathe. "Instead of travelling to Coruscant with me, you chose to summon…" He narrowed his eyes. "What is this creature?" 

"They're Purrgil," Bridger said. The corners of his mouth drifted up into a smile as a wandering tentacle bumped into him gently. 

Thrawn watched it move, snaking its way towards the warm panel of the emergency backup generator. The aura from the Purrgil was bright but cold, like an energy shield. The leathery skin felt smooth and elastic and glowed blue in equally spaced bands. 

"Not so tough now, huh?" Bridger smirked and got up to gloat. "No big fleet or army around to protect you." He took a step closer. 

"You're not that scary up close."

Thrawn studied the look on the boy's face. Thick blue brows pushed together in protest. Sun-baked skin crackling at the folds. Dehydrated. Malnourished. Exhausted. The dark shadows beneath his eyes belied sleepless nights and stress. 

"Few things are," he said. 

Bridger's confident grin unwound into a troubled frown and his aura grew cold. Tiny hairs rising on the side of his neck. A breath of fear, bringing with it adrenaline. 

"Now that you have defeated me," Thrawn said quietly, suppressing an irritable cough for a moment. "What do you plan to do with me?" 

The last shreds of confidence the boy possessed were torn from his face. His eyes widened. Blinking pattern interrupted by a stare. Fear again. But not of the Admiral. Fear of the unknown.

Bridger shook his head, moving swiftly into despair and then his skin around his eyes wrinkled with irritation. 

"I told you, I don't know." 

He turned away, revealing the singed and torn pieces of his clothes. They told the story of blaster bolts and combat.

The boy took a few angry steps down the walkway before slowing and kicking absently at a broken sensor display. 

Thrawn took the opportunity to test how far he could move but quite conclusively proved that he couldn't. The Purrgil tentacles held tight without visible strain and the sheer number of them greatly reinforced the knot around his body. He could barely feel his toes. 

"Nngh," he fidgeted and felt a sharp pain stake his heart. "Ssss." A hiss.

"Are you alright?" The boy turned suddenly. A reflex. Concern briefly covered his expression before he laid eyes on Thrawn. The good will quickly evaporated and he turned away to fold his arms, angered by his own kindness.

Thrawn closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing. The respirator mask was cycling through what little air remained in it but it was getting thinner with each passing minute. 

"What's the status of the life support systems?" he asked painfully. 

"Uuuh," Bridger ummed and scratched his head. 

"Second terminal on your right in the starboard pit," the Admiral instructed.

Bridger glanced over his shoulder sheepishly. Seeds of doubt and distrust blooming into vines of hatred. 

"How do I know this isn't some kind of trap?" 

"You don't," Thrawn wheezed. "But we _will_ run out of air eventually." 

Bridger's face contorted into an unhappy grimace but then he sighed and jumped down into the starboard pit. It was badly damaged by fallen debris and tentacle bashing. Many terminals were crushed beyond recognition. 

"I found it," the boy called. "But it won't turn on." 

"Check the power cable." 

"It's uuuh..." Bridger squatted down. 

"Damaged?" 

"Yeah, let's call it that." 

"Reroute power from the emergency backup generator," Thrawn instructed. 

"Where is it?" 

"Behind the third panel of the port-side power console. There should be a cable reel in the maintenance compartment of the port side pit." 

Bridger vaulted up onto the walkway and dropped into the other pit to search for the extra cabling. After wrestling a large Purrgil tentacle, he managed to wrest it free and roll up a good few metres around his arm. 

"Like this?" 

"Yes. Remove the access panel on the generator and plug the cable into any of the auxiliary ports." 

"Right..." Bridger sighed and climbed out of the pit. His actions weren't graceful or practised, clumsy even but he worked to the best of his ability. 

"Like this?" He pointed to the cable that he connected to the generator. 

"Now plug it into the life support terminal and return to flip the circuit breaker." 

"Why can't I just do it now?" the boy asked irritably. 

"Do you want to be electrocuted?" 

Bridger furrowed his brow and his lips curled into a sneer.

"And you don't? 

"I would not benefit from your death right now," Thrawn said, his voice rasping through the respirator. "I need air. So do you." 

Bridger sighed and uncoiled the cable as he walked back to the starboard pit. He jumped down to land in front of the life support console and plugged it into the back of the terminal. 

His head popped up out of the pit and an arm followed. He reached out and closed his eyes, concentrating on the big switch across the bridge which slowly, slowly flipped down. 

"There," he said as it clicked into place. His smile spread warmth through this cheeks, aura spreading from his face. 

"Boot up the system," Thrawn instructed. 

"Alright, alright." Bridger rolled his eyes. 

He searched the panel and found the power button, waiting briefly for the terminal to turn on. 

"Now what?" 

"Select 'Maintenance' and run a diagnostic on the life support systems." 

The sound of keys tapping filled the bridge as the boy poked at the console with his index fingers. Inefficient. Unpracticed. But it would have to do. 

"It's doing something," Bridger said, standing up. 

"Let it run." 

"What happens if we can't fix it?" he asked quietly. 

"Asphyxiation," Thrawn rasped. "Though, we'll likely fall unconscious before then." 

Bridger climbed up onto the walkway and sat on the edge, feet dangling over the pit. A Purrgil tentacle snaked up his back and he leaned into it like a chair as it topped his head, ruffling the dark blue hair. 

"Hey, buddy, watcha doin'?" he said, pushing the strange hat off his head. 

The tentacle tensed and loosened and slithered down his back and into the pit. 

"Hey! No! We need that to not die." Bridger jumped down into the pit and chased after the rogue Purrgil. "Stop that!" 

He wrangled the tentacle and began wrestling it away from the panel with limited success. 

Thrawn's eyes darted toward the open emergency supply container at his feet, or close enough to them. It was filled with neatly stacked respirator masks, power packs, glow rods and a fusion lantern. 

"Over here," he called to Bridger. 

The boy's head popped up out of the pit and Thrawn nodded at the container. 

"The fusion lantern. And the glow rods." 

Bridger reached out a hand, fingers splayed and then abruptly squeezed them in a crushing motion. Without any visible force, the box rattled and the rods clicked on, the lantern ignited and the tentacle quickly abandoned the terminal. It slithered away toward the box, wrapping it up and glowing brightly, satisfied. 

Bridger climbed out of the pit. 

"Huh. How'd you know it would do that?" 

"It feeds on energy," Thrawn observed. "Or absorbs it..."

"Oh, right." The boy tapped himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand. "They eat Clouzon-36. That stuff's two steps away from being hypermatter." 

"You've encountered these creatures before," Thrawn observed.

"Yep." Bridger nodded. His tone of voice was casual, conversational, fear and hesitation forgotten for a moment. "They attacked a Mining Guild outpost harvesting Clouzon-36 a few years ago. We were gonna hit it up for fuel but they got there first and..." 

He caught sight of Thrawn's painfully neutral expression. 

"Not that... I should be telling you that..." Bridger scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Oh... look, the scan's finished." 

He jumped back down into the port side pit and hid his face in the viewscreen. 

"It says there's a leak in the distribution tank and vents five and six are blocked." 

"Send out the MSE-6 droids," Thrawn instructed. "They should be small enough to conduct the repairs." 

"Uuuuh..." Bridger's tone and posture betrayed a distinct lack of understanding and of building anxiety. 

"There should be an option to designate repair personnel. Select it and then specify the MSE-6s." 

There was silence as Bridger concentrated on the panel with every fiber of his being, attempting to follow Thrawn's instructions. 

"Ha! There. I got it," he said triumphantly. "It says they're _'en route'."_ He flexed his fingers.

"Good," Thrawn nodded. "Can you contact the rest of the ship?" 

Bridger froze. His posture stiffened in a pose midway from rising up. He swallowed audibly. 

"I don't think that's a good idea," his words wavered. 

"You intend to keep me prisoner?" 

"I don't want any Imperials up here," Bridger said. 

"Myself being the exception," Thrawn pointed out. 

"I don't want to hurt anyone else," he said guiltily, turning away. 

Thrawn's brow drifted up in surprise but didn't get very far. 

"This arrangement cannot continue forever," he said, adding a ticking clock to the boy's already conflicted mental spectrum. "You know this." 

The boy sighed and nodded. He climbed out of the pit and looked up at Thrawn. 

"Just until I figure out what to do," he said. There was uncertainty in his voice but it wasn't a question. His eyes betrayed fear and frustration, the aura around his face cooled considerably but underlying it all was a curious confidence. Could it be - hope? 

"I suppose I am at your mercy then, Ezra Bridger," Thrawn said calmly. 

"Don't say it like that." 

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" He narrowed his eyes. 

"You're making it weird." 

"My apologies. I, however, am not the one that brought a swarm of Purrgil into this situation." 

"Oh, this is _my_ fault now?" Bridger tensed, fuelled by anger.

"Is it not?" 

Bridger glared at him angrily but he was too tired to continue doing so for any extended length of time. He knelt down and sat on his legs, assuming a pose the Admiral thought was quite uncharacteristic of the boy. But he recognised the Jedi meditation ritual, no doubt passed down to him by Kanan Jarrus. 

"That won't help you," Thrawn said as Bridger settled down to think. 

The boy opened an irritated blue eye. 

"I need to meditate," he said flatly but his words had a distinct undercurrent of irritation about them. 

"You need to sleep," Thrawn corrected. 

"I'm fine." 

"You're exhausted, dehydrated and starving," the Admiral corrected again. "Some of the Ensigns keep blankets and rations in the pits for breaks between long shifts." 

"I don't need a blanket," Bridger said irritably but Thrawn stared him down and the rebellious fire was quickly suppressed. 

"Fine." He crawled over to the edge of the pit and slid down to search for the hidden supplies. He found an unfoldable bench that clicked into place as he pulled it down and a blanket and pillow tumbled out of the hidden compartment. 

"You make all of your men sleep on the job?" Bridger grumbled. 

"Just the ones that need it," Thrawn said, closing his eyes. 

The boy smirked but he couldn't argue. He was far more tired than he let on and the makeshift bed was incredibly welcoming, even if it was aboard an Imperial Star Destroyer. He lay down when he thought Thrawn wasn't looking. But glanced up at the Admiral apprehensively as soon as he could.

Thrawn closed his eyes, aware of their effect on Humans, particularly in the dark. He listened to his own rasping breath. And Bridger's slowly deepening intake of air. It didn't take long for sleep to claim the boy's troubled mind and Thrawn opened his eyes to witness a Purrgil tentacle slide down into the pit. It lingered to adjust the blanket covering Bridger's body and settled on a nearby terminal to roost, blue bands glowing.

The Admiral watched for a while until finally, sleep came for him too.


	3. Chapter 3

Ezra awoke in a less than modest pose with a little drool coming out of his mouth. He yawned widely and stretched his arms, careful to avoid the wall of his bunk aboard the Ghost as he rolled out of bed.

He reached out a hand and quietly patted the floor, careful not to wake his irritable Lasaat bunk mate as he searched for clothes. They were usually kept in an orderly pile on the floor but the objects which found his hand felt odd and out of place. 

He opened his eyes to find pieces of broken starship and cables. Odds and ends from equipment lockers. And then Ezra saw the Imperial insignia. 

He wasn't aboard the Ghost. Hera wasn't flying him to the next mission. Zeb wasn't snoring across the cabin and Sabine wasn't spray-painting her room across the hall. And Kanan- 

Was gone. 

Ezra shook his head as memories of the last few cycles came rushing back to him. 

He looked around and sure enough, he was still on the bridge of the Chimaera and Grand Admiral Thrawn was still trapped by a mass of Purrgil tentacles. One of them booped the young Jedi's head and wrapped around his eyes. 

"Hey," Ezra laughed, grabbing the fleshy appendage. "Watcha doin?" 

The tentacle released his head and slithered away. Ezra turned to follow it but his eyes caught sight of a small pile of ration bars, no doubt hidden away by an Imperial Ensign for snacking emergencies. 

"Hel _-lo,"_ Ezra said cheekily, unwrapping a bar. 

He bit into it and the smile on his face melted away. Something about hyperspace radiation made them taste even worse but it didn't make him sick. He chewed through the gunk and by the end, he didn't even mind the flavour. Ezra had learned long ago to take any meal he could get. He wouldn't be alive today otherwise. He privately wondered if the Force had something to do with his miraculously iron stomach.

In retrospect, a lot of things made more sense the more he learned about the Force. But even more had become a mystery.

He turned to look at Thrawn as he unsealed another ration bar. The alien had fallen asleep too but unlike, Garazeb Orrelios, he didn't snore. The respirator mask on his face was still fogging up from every breath but it sounded less like rasping now. 

"Looks like the mouse droids fixed the life support," Ezra grinned to himself. 

"Yes," Thrawn replied. 

"Waaah!" Ezra fell back onto the bed in surprise. "You're awake." 

"Yes." 

"Why didn't you say anything?" the young Jedi demanded. 

Thrawn opened his crimson eyes to look at him curiously. They weren't as bright as before. And they didn't stay open for very long.

"Are you okay?" Ezra said suddenly. 

"Pending upon your definition." 

"Do you not know what _'okay'_ means?" Ezra smirked. 

The Admiral's head titled off centre, unable to support its own weight.

"What's wrong?" Ezra got up and climbed out of the pit. 

"I would think it obvious," the Admiral said, his words no louder than a whisper. 

"Hmmm, yeah." Ezra scratched his head, eyeing the many tentacles. 

"HEY, MISTER PURRGIL!" he shouted suddenly. 

Thrawn's eyes shot open in surprise as a massive whale call reverberated through the ship.

"Oh, my bad," Ezra said. "SORRY, MS PURRGIL! CAN YOU LET GO, PLEASE?!!" 

"No," Thrawn said quickly. "We're in hyperspace. If it lets go right now, we won't survive." 

"Oh," Ezra said. 

"SORRY! IGNORE THAT!" he shouted again and a loud whale call rumbled through the ship, shaking its very foundations to the core

Ezra almost lost his footing as the walkway trembled beneath his feet. But soon, it passed and the ship stabilised and the Admiral took a long and laboured breath. 

"Please do not do that again," he said. 

"Okay." Ezra shrugged. "But then how do I get you out?" 

"You should not attempt to do so without a medical officer present." 

"Are you hurt?" Ezra said. "I mean, really bad?" 

"I suspect so," he said, crimson eyes fading to brown. 

"What _are_ you, anyway?" Ezra asked, narrowing his eyes. Thrawn was obviously an alien. The blue skin and red eyes were a bit of a giveaway but he seemed humanoid in all other respects. "Some kind of Pantoran?" 

The Admiral gazed down at him coolly. 

"I am Chiss," he said. 

"Huh..." Ezra rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Never heard of you." He shrugged. 

Thrawn said nothing, his expression neither offended nor particularly concerned with the topic. Arrogant, condescending and a little pretentious, Ezra wasn't surprised the Imperials chose him to lead. The Grand Admiral was, unfortunately, very good at his job. 

"Wait!" Ezra said as a thought occurred to him. "If there's an entire species of you, does that mean there's _more?_ Of _you?_ " 

The alien studied for a moment, trying to discern whether the question was really as stupid as it sounded. 

"Nevermind," Ezra said quickly. "Don't answer that." He was honestly unprepared to tackle the possibility of multiple Thrawns or their effect on the galaxy. 

He poked at the Purrgil tentacles again. 

"They're wrapped around you real tight." 

"Yes," the Chiss agreed. "It finds me hostile." 

"Oh, I wonder _why..."_ Ezra rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips but the Admiral didn't seem to find it funny.

In fact, his painfully neutral expression made it difficult to believe that he really felt anything at all, including pain.

Ezra looked down at the ration bar in his hand and took another bite.

"Are you hungry?" he asked curiously. 

The Chiss locked eyes with him for a moment. 

"What?" Ezra shrugged. 

"No." 

"Really?" The young Jedi furrowed his brow. "Cos I'm starving. How do you guys live on Imperial rations? 

"Time breeds habit and tolerance," Thrawn answered patiently. 

"Do Chiss eat rations too?" Ezra raised a curious blue brow. "Cos, you know, Sabine and I had a bet going..." He grinned.

_"She_ said that you eat the flesh of your fallen enemies." He pointed out. "And _I_ said, you drink their blood like a Darkwing." 

"Interesting," the Chiss observed passively.

"So... which is it?"

The Chiss stared. His eyes had no visible pupils or schlera, making it difficult to know where he was looking even with that red glow in the centre which was now so dull.

"Neither," he said.

"Karrabast!" Ezra swore. "I guess I owe Kanan 20 credits..." An icy pin jabbed at his heart before he could finish the words. 

Kanan was gone. But Ezra's subconscious was still unused to the idea. He'd seen the death of his mentor twice, lived through it, accepted it, but every time he reached for a memory, there he was. Impossible to forget. 

Perhaps he thought Kanan was always going to be there for him. His mentor and in some ways, his father. The one a young Ezra had lost and found again, along with his new family aboard the Ghost. A home. Just like the one on Lothal. All he'd ever wanted was someone who cared. And every time, the Empire took them away. 

"You miss him," Thrawn observed quietly. "Your master." 

"You wouldn't understand," Ezra said coldly. "It's because of you that..." He swallowed. "That Kanan is dead." 

"Is it?" 

"If you hadn't come to Lothal-" 

"Kanan Jarrus might not have died in a fiery explosion at the fuel depot. This is possible," the Chiss said calmly. "However, your supposition of my culpability is erroneous." 

"It was your men that fired on the fuel depot." 

"My men were aboard the Chimaera orbiting Coruscant. The crew of the Inexorable remained in low orbit around Lothal and its soldiers were garrisoned outside Capital City. The forces within it, however, were under the command of Governor Pryce." 

"You're going to blame Pryce for all the awful things you've done to Lothal?!" Ezra said angrily. "You're a murderer." 

"A warrior's path is filled with difficult decisions," Thrawn said sternly, his voice rasping and deep. "I do not make them lightly." 

"Whatever," Ezra muttered and turned away. 

Thrawn was manipulating him. Just like the Emperor was trying to, back in the temple. Scheming, lying, murdering Imperials that didn't care about anyone but themselves. 

Ezra remembered Morad Sumar - a simple farmer who'd been forced to work at the speeder factory - the man Thrawn had forced to test his own sabotaged vehicle and subsequently killed. Just like Kanan had been killed. It didn't matter who did the deed. The Empire was responsible. 

He grit his teeth. He should have just killed Thrawn there and then. Why was he hesitating now? 

He turned to find the Admiral watching him intently, his expression unreadable but there was definitely interest. But then he coughed and coughed again, violently, blood spattering the plastoid casing of his respirator mask. 

"Woah, are you okay?" Ezra said without thought. 

Thrawn gasped and stopped coughing, blood trickling down his face. 

"Karrabast!" Ezra said, grabbing his own head with both hands. 

What was he supposed to do? He wasn't a trained medic. The only way to find one was to head down into the bowels of the Chimaera and go swimming through Imperials until he found someone who would co-operate. Assuming there were any medics left at all. But that could take hours. 

He looked around, searching for a medkit and found the symbol embossed on the wall. The panel swung open as he bashed against it and revealed the collection of medical supplies and first aid tools. 

Ezra fished out a glowing blue syringe and squinted at the tiny letters that read 'bacta'. 

"Close enough," he said and ran back down the walkway to stab Thrawn in the shoulder. 

The Chiss gasped and winced as Ezra pushed down the plunger. His head fell and his eyes closed. The fog in the respirator gradually disappeared, leaving nothing but blood. 

"Uh oh," Ezra frowned. "Thrawn?" He poked the Chiss. "Thrawn?" 

"Damn it!" He ran back to the medkit and found something called a stimpak. It had a long needle and double-barrel plungers and looked like it might resuscitate a man... or kill him. 

Ezra raced back to stab the Admiral a second time and when he injected the strange liquid, his head jerked violently and he started coughing again. 

"Okay," Ezra said with a sigh. "Back to where we started." 

Thrawn hacked up more blood but soon the mask was fogging up again. Ezra pulled it off and quickly replaced it with a new one. He tossed the red mask aside, his eyes strangely drawn to the gruesome thing. 

"You bleed," he said simply, wondering why the fact surprised him but Thrawn didn't reply. 

He wheezed and rasped as the respirator tried to force air down his throat but it did little good. And Ezra didn't know what to do. 

"You're dying..." he said simply. 

The brown eyes flickered open and glared at him. 

"C-coms..." Thrawn sputtered. "Medic..." 

"No. No, I can't. If they come, they'll try to-" 

But his words were drowned out by the Chiss hacking up more blood. Ezra winced with every rasp and frowned. 

"Okay..." he said. "Okay, I'll try..." 

He jumped down into the pit and woke the terminal from standby. The screen filled up with many aurabesh characters and Ezra tentatively tapped for communications. A list of frequencies came up but most of the entries were greyed out. He scrolled through them urgently, searching for at least one that was still active. And then he found it. Thirteenth Level Maintenance Storeroom. 

It wasn't a medbay but there were none available so with a sigh and a quick look back at the Admiral, Ezra bit his lip and tapped the call button. The terminal chirped and beeped. Seconds spilled over seconds, into minutes at a time but no one picked up. 

"Damn it." Ezra hit the console with a fist. "Pick up, you stupid Imps," he said, failing to notice the connection establishing. 

_"Who you calling stupid, rebel scum?"_ a voice responded. 

"Uh... this is Ensign Brocker on the bridge, sir." Ezra made up a name and a voice on the spot. 

_"Save it, kid. We know it's you. What have you done with the Admiral?"_

"I haven't done anything yet." Ezra raised his hands in surrender. 

_"When I get my hands you..."_

"Wait! Thrawn is hurt. Bad. He needs a medic." 

_"Yeah? You expect me to believe that? I'm not falling for your rebel tricks."_

"Please. He's coughing up blood. I-I can't do anything to stop it." 

_"I'm not hearing another word of thi-"_ The man was interrupted and there was a scuffle. 

_"Step aside, Sergeant. The boy sounds sincere and refusing to aid the Grand Admiral is treason."_

_"Pssh, you believe this garbage?"_

_"I don't need to believe it. Only render aid. I am First Medical Officer Renoval Hague. Tell me what happened."_

Ezra drew a quick breath and fired off, "Purrgil tentacles broke through the view wall on the bridge and wrapped around the Admiral and then we went into hyperspace and then he wasn't breathing so I put a respirator mask on him but then he started coughing up blood so I stabbed him with some bacta and a stimpak but it didn't help!" 

_"Is he still constricted?"_

"Yeah. I can't get the tentacles off him. Not without the ship coming apart." 

_"How much of the body do you have access to?"_

"Uh, his head and shoulder?" Ezra said unsurely. 

_"The tentacles are compressing his diaphragm?"_

"Ummm, I guess?" 

_"Probably blunt force trauma to the chest. He could have a punctured lung. Internal bleeding. Do you have access to medical supplies?"_

"Just the emergency medkit." 

_"There should be a vac-packed syringe labelled ND-MD 5. It's the big silver one."_

Ezra rifled around in the box and found it. 

"I think this is it." 

_"Alright, I need you to send me the ID number on the packet."_

Ezra tapped out the long string of numbers and sent it off. 

_"Thank you. Now I need you to twist the cap on the syringe and wait thirty seconds for the Endies to boot up."_

Ezra nodded and did so. "Now what?" 

_"Inject them into the Admiral's arm. Avoid the areas surrounding his neck and chest."_

"Will they fix him?" 

_"They'll provide me with the necessary readings to come up with a diagnosis,"_ Hague said. _"And I'll be able to control them remotely in case operative intervention is needed."_

Ezra climbed out of the pit and approached Thrawn again. He still wasn't sure what he was doing or why he was doing it but then he felt something brush past his shoulder. Almost like Kanan had put his hand on it again but it was just a passing Purrgil tentacle. 

He shook his head and climbed through the fleshy knots to inject Thrawn with the nanodroids. He wasn't conscious anymore and the mask barely fogged up. 

_"Receiving data,"_ Ezra heard from the console across the bridge and quickly returned to it. 

"Anything?" 

_"It'll take some time,"_ Hague said. _"Looks like blood flow is restricted. Pressure is low. Oxygen saturation, dangerously low. The Endies will have their work cut out for them."_

Ezra sighed. "Thrawn... wanted to know if there were any survivors." 

_"There are,"_ Hague said. _"Commodore Faro is conducting a search and rescue operation. We've found over three hundred crew members so far."_

_"Sshhh. Don't tell him that. He'll send his giant squid monster to kill us all!"_ another man hissed. 

_"Coward. Let them come. We'll show them the might of the Empire!"_

_"Quiet, all of you! The Grand Admiral's life depends on it,"_ Hague shushed them. 

"Are you guys done fighting?" Ezra said. 

" _Yes,"_ Hague replied. _"I will continue to monitor the Admiral's condition and contact you if I require assistance. For now, the men will try to clear a path to bridge so I can administer medical attention in person."_

"You're coming up here?" Ezra said nervously. 

_"From what you've said, I gather the Admiral cannot be moved. And I advise against removing pressure from his body until the Endies confirm he won't suffer crush syndrome."_

"Okay, but..." 

_"What is it, rebel twerp? Scared you're going to get what's coming to you?"_

"You wish," Ezra snapped and closed the frequency. 

He hated Imperials. Pompous. Arrogant. Condescending. Bureaucratic nightmares on legs. And then there was Thrawn. He was full of nano droids now. If he died, the Imperials would know straight away and come gunning for him, which they would probably do anyway once they found a way up to the bridge. 

Ezra sighed and climbed back up to the walkway. It felt central to the soul of the ship. Like its beating black heart. And he sat down to meditate as he'd meant to before. 

The Force swirled around him, conflicted and rough around the edges. The Purrgil gave off an odd energy too but as he slowly melded his mind to theirs, he felt at peace. Quiet, calm. He felt like a passenger on a tranquil flight from one planet to the next but he couldn't quite see the destination. The journey seemed endless, taking him deeper and deeper through hyperspace. 

He heard voices. Familiar and far away. 

He wondered what Sabine and Hera and the others would be doing now. Were they safe? Were they alive? 

Yes. 

He could feel it. Something in the living energies of the Force told him they weren't dead. Not like Kanan, whose presence was scattered thin. 

He felt something tapping his head and opened his eyes. Several Purrgil tentacles had unravelled around Thrawn and were now inquisitively probing the bridge. 

Ezra turned to see them slither through the hatchway and down the turbolift shaft, into the depths of the Chimaera. Had the creature sensed his unease about the Imperials coming up to get him? Was it trying to protect him? 

He didn't know. 

There was so much Ezra Bridger didn't know. But at least his family was safe. The knowledge was comforting, even if he would never see them again. He sighed and leaned back onto his arms, letting his legs unravel in front of him and buzz with pins and needles. 

"How did Kanan sit like this for so long?" he wondered out loud as he lay down. 

Ahsoka had done it too. He'd seen her meditating in a similar way. 

"Maybe it's a Jedi thing." 

He closed his eyes and wondered what she was doing. After their unexpected reunion in the world between worlds, Ezra returned to Lothal alone by jumping through a portal and she went through another. The place beyond time had many gateways and paths, ever-changing, fluid, dark and yet light enough to see with perfect clarity. He heard the voices, disembodied and distant. Whispers of words even he knew not the meaning of. It was strange and eerie but nothing compared to the darkness of the power he felt radiating from the Sith Emperor. The blue fire and lightning that chased them through the invisible walkways. 

He opened his eyes and sat up abruptly. The echoes of Palpatine's cackle fading away. 

The thought still haunted him. 

Ezra almost fallen for the good guy Palpatine charade

He shuddered, wondering what would have happened if he opened the passage in the Jedi Temple. Would the entire galaxy cease to exist as they knew it? Or would he finally have seen his mother and father again? If he could pull Ahsoka out of a portal then perhaps he could step into one and stay there? Right? 

He lay back again and rolled onto his side, feeling the cold durasteel beneath his cheek. The remains of the temple were destroyed. Along with any way off the Chimaera. He couldn't even use an escape pod until the Purrgil swarm felt like leaving hyperspace.

He was stuck.

_They_ were stuck. 

Ezra sat up again and leaned his elbows on his knees to support his head as he looked up at Thrawn. The bloodied mask on his face was fogging up and his brow was furrowed and stern. 

_"Look at me,"_ Ezra mocked. _"I'm Grand Admiral Thrawn and I like stealing other people's art cos I'm a big blue gark head."_ He scowled as he thought about Hera's Kalikori. Kanan's final gift to her; she couldn't stop clutching it when he died. 

_"I'm just a great big murderer with a fleet of starships that terrorise the galaxy and kill innocent people,"_ he said sourly, remembering Commander Sato and all the rebels that died over Atollon. 

_"I know everything about everyone before they even know it,"_ Ezra continued doing the voice. Kallus had told him about Fulcrum and Thrawn's manipulations. _"That's why my head is so big - it's full of secrets..."_

Ezra grinned at the jest and slowly got to his feet to straighten his back and lift up his head like the Admiral did. 

_"I'm from a planet of blue ice people, that's why I'm such a cold-hearted psychopath,"_ Ezra continued, lifting his legs up higher and higher to exaggerate the military stride Imperials were known for. 

_"I have the Emperor's hand shoved so far up my-"_

"Are you quite finished?" Thrawn said quietly and paralysed Ezra mid-stride. 

"I, uh…" He winced. 

Thrawn opened his eyes again to look at him. They were no longer a glowing red, almost brown. He seethed and took a deep breath as carefully as he could. 

"A-are the nano droids working?" Ezra said. 

"Perhaps." The Admiral's face was hard to read but Ezra could sense that he was in great pain. 

"Officer Hague said there were survivors," he offered. "Commandore Faro found three hundred people." 

A glimmer passed through Thrawn's dark eyes. 

"Good," he said. "Not all is lost." 

Ezra frowned. He had mixed feelings about Imperial survivors. One had even tried to shoot him. What would happen if there were more? If they came out of hyperspace with half a ship full of angry Imperials? And Thrawn was still alive. 

"If we get out of this..." Ezra said, "will you go back to Lothal?" 

The Chiss remained still and unmoved. 

"If the Emperor wills it," he breathed through the mask. 

Ezra sighed. 

"I can't let you do that," he said. 

"Do as you must," the Admiral replied calmly. "I am in no position to defend myself." 

Ezra frowned. 

"You want me to kill you?" 

"No." Condescension re-entered Thrawn's voice. "But I suspect you won't, out of some misguided Jedi principles." 

"You don't know what I'm capable of," Ezra said. 

"I know that you've gone to great lengths to keep me alive," Thrawn said. "Why do you think that is?" 

"I'm not a murderer like you." 

"And yet, you and your associates were planning to destroy the Imperial Center in Lothal's Capital City," Thrawn said casually. "Launch it into space and force it to self-destruct by overloading the generators?" 

Ezra winced. 

"Uuuh... no," he pretended to know nothing of the sort. 

"A clever plan worthy of General Syndulla who did not expect my interference." The dull brown eyes glimmered with crimson. "The death of Kanan Jarrus has finally sharpened her resolve to a fine point." 

"Don't talk about Kanan," Ezra snapped. "Or Hera. Not after what you did to them..." 

"Are you familiar with the art of war, Ezra Bridger?" the Chiss said ponderously. 

"Save it for your lackeys," Ezra spat and folded his arms. 

"I thought not," Thrawn said quietly, his eyes drifting. "You never fully comprehended the consequences of your actions." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"The Imperial Center is a starship and a central government building designed to fit any city and provide a stronghold for Imperial personnel." 

"Yeah, I know that," Ezra said irritably. "It's a symbol of oppression. That's why we wanted to blow it up. " 

"Did you consider that the people of Lothal were also involved in governing it?" Thrawn raised an eyebrow. "Did you think about the Lothalian government officials and their families housed in the Imperial Centre? The workers and employees performing their duties inside?"

"Imperial stooges," Ezra said bitterly.

"And what of the young people training at the Academy inside the Imperial Centre?" Thrawn offered. "The Barracks that housed them? The Medical Centre?"

"What of all the people caught in the shower of debris that would follow such an explosion?"

Ezra frowned and shook his head. 

_"My... my family would be alive if it wasn't for you."_

Is that what the Lothalian Imperial was talking about? The Imperial Center? Without Thrawn's fleet, Hera and Sabine and the gang would find little standing between them and its destruction.

"We sent word through the Resistance to all the people of Lothal before we started the operation," Ezra said carefully, without as much vigor. 

"The Center housed over fifteen thousand residents," Thrawn said simply. "Are you sure all of them received your warning?" 

"I don't have to explain myself to you." 

"And what of the thousands of Lothal's citizens that died fighting for your cause? Following your lead?" 

"The Resistance had to make sacrifices." 

"Yes," Thrawn agreed. "You've sacrificed a lot of things, Ezra Bridger." 

"Shut up!" he said rather suddenly. The Chiss was getting on his nerves. "You have no idea what I've been through or what Lothal has been through, thanks to you and the Empire." 

"And do you think you've improved upon the situation?" 

Ezra frowned and let his arms unravel. He was sure that everything up until that point would help free Lothal. That everything was for the good of the people but now he wasn't as confident as the boy that shimmied up a vent to surrender himself to the Empire not so long ago. 

"I... I don't know," he said. "I guess I'll never know now." 

He sat down and hugged his knees, unable to look the Admiral in the eye. 

Several tentacles slithered by as Ezra frowned at them glumly. 

So many people had died for the victory on Lothal. His home. But it was just one planet. One in a whole wide galaxy of worlds the Resistance was fighting to free. Mon Mothma hadn't deemed Lothal worthy of saving but Ezra refused to give up. And now, here he was. 

And that question kept burning in his mind. 

What was he going to do now? 

_"What you need you already have,"_ the words echoed through him and he could smell the campfire beside which he stood when Obi-wan Kenobi said them. _"Unfortunately, you seem to be letting it all go."_

Ezra sighed. 

More cryptic Jedi phrases. Why couldn't anything be straightforward? Why couldn't they just say what they meant? 

Even the holocrons. Those fabled fonts of knowledge, supposedly wisdomous beyond measure. All they'd ever brought was misfortune and misery. 

A few more tentacles unravelled around the mass keeping Thrawn upright and loosened the hold on his chest. He breathed in suddenly, his lung capacity growing. 

"Interesting," he said, taking another deep breath. He could move his shoulder now but not much else. 

"What is?" Ezra grumbled. 

The Chiss looked down at him curiously. 

"What are you looking at?" 

"Indeed." 

"Urrgh. Not you too." Ezra dumped his head onto his knees. "Why does everyone keep talking in riddles?" 

"You prefer straight forward orders and statements of fact," Thrawn said. 

"Well, duh. Who wants to be guessing what other is saying all the time?" 

"Orders are not to be second-guessed, they are to be followed. Vagueness and open-ended statements protect the bearer from the truth." 

"You mean lies?" 

"Lies until proven true." 

"You're not making sense." Ezra shook his head. "You're either lying or you're not." 

"Objectively, yes. But subjectively, a statement could be both, either or neither." 

Ezra scrunched up his face, trying to comprehend his meaning. 

"Urgh, you're as bad as the Loth-wolves," he said, dumping his head into his hands. 

The Chiss raised a curious eyebrow. 

"Oh, right..." Ezra sighed. "Forgot who I was talking to." 

The Chiss looked over him curiously.

"I've seen depictions of wolves in murals all over your planet, yet my men found no living examples," Thrawn observed casually. "Another Jedi trick, I take it?" 

"The Loth-wolves don't show themselves to just anyone," Ezra seethed. "Especially evil people like you." 

"Or perhaps only the Force-sensitive," Thrawn pondered. "The people of Lothal have not reported sightings of Loth-wolves or Force users in centuries. I do my research, Ezra Bridger." 

"A fat load of good that did you," Ezra grinned smugly, pointing at the Purrgil tentacles. 

"I must admit, I did not anticipate this scenario," the Chiss conceded. "I am curious as to how you led them to Lothal. They appear to be a nomadic species." 

"We had recordings of Purrgil calls," Ezra said proudly. "I had a ship fly through the sector we saw them last and bring them straight to you." He grinned. 

"You didn't go yourself?" Thrawn narrowed his eyes. 

"Uh... no." 

"And they attacked on your command?" 

"Uh... I guess?" 

"Interesting." The Admiral studied him curiously. "And you had no contact with your collaborators once you boarded the Chimaera..." 

"They're not my _collaborators_ ," Ezra smirked. 

"Your friends were assisting you in performing a terrorist attack on Lothal's capital city." 

"We're not terrorists!" Ezra shouted. 

Thrawn looked down at him patiently, his eyes steadily regaining the glow that made them so ominous in the dark. He didn't say a word but Ezra felt like he was staring into his soul. 

"Quit looking at me like that," he said, "it's creepy." 

The Admiral raised an eyebrow and let his head fall. If he was still looking at Ezra, there was no way to tell.

He turned away and wandered down the walkway, following the Purrgil tentacles that were slithering past the bridge and into the ship. 

Thrawn was wrong. He wasn't a terrorist. It was the Empire that was terrorising Lothal from the very people to the planet itself. Even the Jedi Temple had been torn from its roots and pulled aboard the Chimaera for transport to Coruscant.

The Rebel Alliance did fight, it was true. But all they wanted was freedom. They didn't kill innocent people to prove a point. Unlike a certain Grand Admiral or even Saw Guerrera for that matter.

More than once, Ezra had wondered what would have been if he and Sabine joined Saw instead of the Rebel Alliance or the Phoenix squad. Saw's band of freedom fighters weren't known for pulling punches and didn't care about civilian casualties as long as they hurt the Empire in any way they could. Which was admirable, but also incredibly dangerous and heartless, if not suicidal at times.

Ezra knew what it was like to lose family, to lose your home and Saw's plight resonated with him. He could feel how much pain was hidden beneath the surface when the man talked about his sister. It was the same pain Ezra felt whenever he thought about his parents. And how he would never see them again. But Saw channelled that pain into anger and aggression. And that was not the Jedi way. Not Ezra's way in any case. He could never kill innocents like that. But now, he wasn't so sure. 

He stopped at the door of the turbolift shaft which had been forced open by Purrgil tentacles and looked down into the darkness. The purple tendrils glowed blue and illuminated the inside but there were too many of them to see anything clearly. He couldn't hear anything either. 

He felt an eerie chill running up his spine as he remembered the underground tunnels on Geonosis, the Imperial waste buried deep below the surface. Saw was sure they were hiding something down there. Something bad enough to scare the Geonosians into leaving. Weapons? Or worse… 

Ezra swallowed and took a step back from the turbolift shaft. He would take the emergency stairs. 

His feet carried him into the maze-like halls of the Chimaera once again and he wondered where he was going or what he was hoping to find. Maybe if he got in an escape pod and launched it, he could remove himself from the Star Destroyer before the rest of the Imperials reached the bridge. They were still in hyperspace, of course, but maybe the Force could guide him to a safe exit point.

He stopped to look at an emergency exit diagram and traced the path to the nearest escape pod bay with his finger. It wasn't far. Maybe a five minute walk if there were no blockages on the path. 

He looked over his shoulder and found live wires and fuselage hanging dangerously from the ceiling of the corridor and leaned down to avoid it as he stepped forward. The ship was creaking and groaning but surprisingly in one piece, unlike some of the smaller ships which had been snapped in two during the attack. 

Ezra slowly navigated his way through the debris to find the nearest escape pod bay. Several Imperials were lying on the floor dead, too slow to make it out and unlucky enough to be hit by falling durasteel panels. It wasn't pretty and Ezra swallowed the lump in his throat. The Force reeked of death. 

He found nearly half of the escape pods launched. Ezra tried to open one of them but the controls were damaged and the power was fluctuating. He closed his eyes and reached out a hand to feel the energies of the Force and open the airlock, revealing the small compartment inside. 

There were Imperials in the seats. A man and a woman burned beyond recognition by electrical discharge and Ezra almost gagged from the smell. He used the Force to close the airlock and peered into the other escape pods, all similarly damaged and containing grizzly passengers. 

"Karrabast," Ezra swore, holding his hand up over his mouth and nose. 

A spark of electricity spat at him and he backed away before it fizzled and lit up the uniform of one of the Imperials on the floor. The man was dead but his clothes caught fire which spread rapidly to the others and Ezra backed up. 

"Uh oh..." he said worriedly. 

He had nothing to douse the fire with and nothing that would protect him from the smoke. Fire was dangerous, particularly on a starship, and if it reached the generators, they'd blow up before they left hyperspace. 

Ezra looked around desperately, searching for something he could use but everything was durasteel and vibranium and transparisteel. And he had no idea what the emergency procedures on an Imperial Star Destroyer were like. 

"I'm sorry," Ezra said as he opened an escape pod airlock. 

He used the Force to lift the flaming bodies and dump them inside and when the airlock closed, he pulled the big lever to disengage. The escape pod shot out of the starship and buckled, deforming and melting into an unrecognisable shape before being swallowed by the blue black clouds of hyperspace. Ezra swallowed and took a step back.

A similar fate awaited him, even if he did manage to find a working escape pod.

He turned away and walked swiftly down the corridor, turning left and right until the smell of burning flesh left his nostrils. He stopped and leaned on his knees, breathing heavily at having exhausted himself. The Force aided his recovery and soon, he got to his feet and sighed out the anxiety.

His stomach rumbled expectantly and he sighed as he set off down the hall in search of food.

The durasteel walls blurred into durasteel floors and Ezra got the distinct impression that he was walking around in circles. He stopped and sat down on a big purple tentacle and sighed. 

He was lost. In more ways than one. 

There had to be more to all this, like Kanan said. He had to trust in the Force and he did. Everything had seemed so simple in that moment on the bridge, so obvious when he willed the Purrgil to take them into hyperspace. It felt like the right thing to do. 

Was that what Kanan had felt in his final moments? That distinct clarity when visions of the Force and the present lined up so perfectly with reality that he need only be?

That look in his eye... Ezra remembered. No regret. No doubt. But unlike Kanan, Ezra had survived his ordeal. Did that mean there was more in store for him? For Ahsoka? For Sabine and Hera and Zeb and... Thrawn? 

He shook his head. 

This is the part where he usually wandered off to the plains of Lothal or the craggy plateaus of Atollon to think, letting his feet carry him to some remote place no one would think to look. Kanan had done it too, guided by the Force, and the two of them had found each other on several occasions in the most isolated places where the world knew peace. But there was little of that to be found on an Imperial dreadnought.

Ezra felt his feet carrying him away again but he didn't resist. Perhaps the Force knew where he was going because he found another break room soon and this one had a caf machine and a conservator inside. He opened the door to find it full of vac-packed meals and drink and grinned. His eyes devoured the labels greedily before grabbing the closest pile and shoving it into a rehydrator pod to cook. He watched them spinning around and round with zealous interest which his stomach shared. 

The rehydrator beeped and popped open and Ezra burned his tongue, shovelling steaming hot bantha steak into his mouth. 

"Ah, ooh, hot..." he mumbled and opened the conservator to find several litres of water to douse the burn. 

He sighed and wiped his mouth before sitting down on the massive purple tentacle beside the table to eat, accompanied by six jugs of water.

"I wonder what Thrawn is doing..."


	4. Chapter 4

Thrawn hadn't moved very much but he could feel something crawling around under his skin. The nanodroids had repaired most of the damage to his rib cage before reentering the bloodstream.

He could feel their tiny mechanical feet pushing blood vessels open as they travelled up towards his head and breathed in deeply to steel himself.

Pain was as much physical as it was psychological and a clear mind was the key to dealing with injury. Panic would only raise blood pressure and exacerbate his condition. He had to remain calm, which in theory, should not be so difficult for a man like Mitth'raw'nuruodo to do but reality had an odd way of unfolding lately.

He felt the Endies poke at an artery while climbing up his neck and twitched involuntarily, suppressing a hiss. The pain was instantly replaced with a cold shot of bacta as the droid continued travelling up his neck. The rest were concentrating on his spine. The lumbar region had taken most of the pressure and would need reinforcement.

But then one of the droids broke off from the rest. Had it escaped Officer Hague's control? Or was he trying to-

"Rrrgh..." the Admiral could help but groan.

There was an intensely sharp pain as the droid latched on to the audio nerve in his ear and filled his head with static.

"Ssss," he breathed in, trying to remain calm.

_"Admiral?"_ Hague's voice came thundering through his skull. _"Admiral, can you hear me?"_

"Turn down the volume," Thrawn said as evenly as his airways would allow.

_"Yes, sir."_ The Officer did so. _"Are you alright?"_

"Conscious," he said. "Immobilised. I can't escape this creature and I fear it has done extensive damage to my spine."

_"The Endies are taking care of it now, sir,"_ Hague reported. _"The pressure on your body has been greatly reduced in the last half hour. I've programmed the Endies to absorb any potassium, myoglobin and phosphorus that may be entering your blood stream as a result."_

"What about my back?"

_"Once the Endies reach your spinal column, they will begin printing durallium braces around the vertebrae to take the pressure off your body. That should be enough to protect you until we can get to a working medcentre."_

"No. I want you to begin repairs as soon as they're done."

_"Sir, I doubt they'll have enough materials left over to complete such a serious operation and I don't trust myself to do it remotely-"_

"You will do this," Thrawn said. "And you will do so carefully."

_"I... I understand,"_ Hague replied nervously. _"But I have to warn you, it will be **extremely** painful."_

"Do not concern yourself on that account," Thrawn said calmly. "Have you tested for radiation poisoning?"

_"Yes, sir,"_ Hague reported. _"You appear to be unaffected."_

"Unaffected?" Thrawn repeated curiously, his eyes flickering towards the blue bands on the Purgill and their eerie glow.

_"You're showing no signs of radiation poisoning, hyperfield sickness or damage to your base genetic structures,"_ Hague said. _"Several fractured bones but the Endies have taken care of your ribs and patched your lungs. The fracture in your sternum has been reinforced with liquid durallium. Hopefully, there'll be enough for your spine as well."_

"What's the status of the crew?"

_"Unknown. We're still searching but over five hundred confirmed dead."_

"And the living? How many officers?"

_"Commodore Faro and myself have repurposed the thirteenth level maintenance storeroom into a communications centre and the adjacent living quarters into a temporary medbay. Unfortunately, we can't get to the others. There are tentacles, debris and fires all over the ship."_

"Can you contact anyone else?"

_"Communications are limited to this one inventory console that survived the initial attack,"_ Hague said. _"We're doing our best to repair the damage but we're finding more dead and injured than living."_

"Understood. Can you put me through to Commodore Faro?"

_"I shall try to locate her, sir. Bear with me."_

"Go," Thrawn said and the static in his ear disappeared.

Nine thousand two hundred and thirty five officers, twenty seven thousand eight hundred and fifty enlisted soldiers and nine thousand seven hundred Stormtroopers, all aboard the Chimaera. Too many to lose, especially to a child's folly.

Karyn Faro was alive. That was a start. She was an experienced officer, once captaining the Chimaera. With the fall of Albus Marinith, she would do so again.

But right now, she would lead a search and rescue, prioritising safety and medical care over retaliation. Finding Ezra Bridger would only bring more men and women into danger and Mitth'raw'nuruodo had lost enough.

He felt something jab at his lower back and sizzle. Durallium, synthetic cartilage and hyper conductive feris fibre to repair the spinal cord. And it was just the beginning. Even standing for long periods of time after such a procedure would hurt. He was going to need a chair on the bridge. Maybe with some overlays and command interfaces. Something for his back...

The static in his ear hissed again and this time a woman spoke.

_"Admiral Thrawn?"_

"Yes, Commodore."

_"Oh, thank the Emperor."_ She sighed out. _"It's a madhouse down here,"_ she began. _"We've got two hundred and eighty three wounded, thirty eight in critical condition and five hundred dead just on this level. There's only seventy people still on their feet and there's blasted tentacles everywhere."_

"Have they enveloped any of the crew?"

_"How do you mean?"_

"Are any of the crewers currently suspended by Purrgil tentacles?"

_"Is that what they're called?"_

"My hands are tied so I can't cross-reference our databases at the moment. You'll have to work with what you have."

_"Yes, sir. Awaiting orders."_

"The creatures feed on energy, hypermatter and fuel. I suspect you'll find the largest collection of tentacles near the generators, reactors and fuel hangars."

_"We **have** been seeing fluctuations in power on decks near the main reactor,"_ Faro reported. _"The backup generators kicked in almost straight away."_

"Then it is likely the creatures are feeding on the power there to compensate for the mass of the Chimaera. Is it possible for you to reach the main reactor?"

_"Yes. I sent a team to check on it when the power fluctuations began."_

"Assessment?"

_"A moment while I contact them, sir."_

"Granted."

Her voice cut out and Thrawn was left to contemplate the situation further, tracing branches of possibilities and probability into potential timelines and plans of action before static once again interrupted his thoughts.

_"It's covered in tentacles, sir. Key words: weird and glowy."_

Predictable, Thrawn thought, but dangerous. The main fail safe for a solar ionization reactor overloading aboard Imperial Star Destroyers was jettison. But if Purrgil tentacles were indeed holding on tightly to the device, it would be stuck to the Chimaera and detonate with all those on board if triggered.

"Order them to shut it down if it is possible to do so safely." 

_"Yes, sir."_

"Immediately."

_"A moment."_

Her voice disappeared again to relay his orders and Thrawn glanced down at the massive fleshy tendrils holding him in place. None of the other crewers were constricted thusly. Only power cores, generators, reactors, fuel cells - energy sources necessary to generate a big enough hyperfield around the Chimaera, he realised. Though not enough to prevent some crewers in the lower aft from suffering hyperfield radiation burns. 

Was there a limit to the range of a Purrgil's hyperfield? Is that why four of them had latched onto a ship one could easily pull? 

_"I've relayed your orders, sir,"_ Faro reported.  _"The main reactor will power down shortly."_

Was that a mistake? No. A reactor overload would be catastrophic. Let them take anything but that. Perhaps it would be possible to escape in the Chimaera's complement of smaller spacecraft?

"What's the status of the hangars nearest to you?" Thrawn said, deducing Faro's likeliest path before she could describe her activity so far.

_"Poor,"_ Faro sighed. _"The creatures must have been searching for fuel and generators like you said because the hangar has received heavy damage. We've lost 80% of our fuel reserves and most of our hyperspace capable ships. Smashed up by those blasted tentacles."_

No escape.

"And the forward hangar bay?" Thrawn said.

_"Unknown, sir. I was on my way to the bridge when the attack began. I've been handling search and rescue as best I can but we are extremely short on man power."_

"I see," Thrawn said. "Then you must bolster your ranks. Continue search and rescue."

_"I've done all I can in the areas we can access but there's tentacles everywhere, blocking off passage to the rest of the ship. I can hear people calling out but we can't reach them."_

"With the main reactor shut down, the Purrgil will begin looking for energy sources elsewhere," Thrawn said.

_"The emergency backup generators?"_

"Precisely."

_"You think they'll move out of the way?"_

"You may need to entice them," Thrawn said. "Switch off the generators on one side of the ship and the tentacles will shift to find power. Use the opportunity to send search parties to new areas as obstructions are cleared."

_"Right. Any particular order?"_

"Start with the main starboard sublight engine and make your way to the medbays in the mid-aft. Take a medical officer with you."

_"There's no one free,"_ Faro said. _"Hague's treating the patients. He can't leave. He's only got two Junior officers and a handful of Emdies assisting. They're doing their best but they're too green for hyperfield radiation and crushed limbs."_

"Understood. Have them construct a list of medical supplies they need and send a technical team to patch communications and power lines throughout the ship. Bring a fire suppression crew with you as well. You'll have approximately twenty five minutes before the Purrgil tentacles overbalance the port side and the stabilisers fail."

_"We'll be back before then, Admiral,"_ Faro said, giving a brief pause. _"Are... are you alright up there?"_

"I'm not going anywhere for the time being. Concentrate on the task at hand and keep me apprised."

_"Yes, sir. Officer Hague will patch my com through to this terminal."_

"Very good. And watch for Ezra Bridger. He's trapped in the Command Tower but I suspect he'll be attempting to escape. If you find him, do not attempt to subdue. Give chase but let him run from you."

_"I don't understand, sir,"_ Faro said. _"Shouldn't we try to catch the perpetrator?"_

"Focus on survival, Commodore. Going after Bridger is a waste of resources and there is no escape while we are in hyperspace. I will try to keep him occupied."

_"Yes, sir. Will that be all?"_

"Yes. Carry out your orders."

He heard her feet shuffling together to salute and the com cut out.

The main reactor will have powered down by now. Five minutes to switch off the generator to the aft port sublight engines. Five minutes for them to power down. Twenty five minute search and retrieval mission to the starboard side of mid aft. If all went well, he would hear back from Faro in forty or so minutes with a full report.

If her numbers were accurate, less than 0.08% of the crew remained able-bodied. Loosely applied, he had less than four thousand men left on the Chimaera, though the figure could be worse. He wondered privately if the other ships had suffered a similar number of casualties.

Two of the Seventh Fleet's Task Forces were assigned to the Lothal barricade. Fifty eight ships were disabled as soon as the Purrgil left hyperspace, likely taken by surprise. But the creatures only coveted the Chimaera, choosing to take it with them as they left, which meant that Thrawn was cut off from the rest of his Fleet.

His eyes scoured the pits for any signs of life but it was fruitless. The bridge and the forward observation deck were empty. No one could have survived the crushing forces of hyperspace. Except that boy somehow. And Thrawn himself.

"No radiation poisoning…" he muttered absently, staring into the glowing blue bands of the tentacles that held him. "Radiation burns in the aft..."

His contemplations were interrupted by the searing pain in his back. He trusted Hague's competency but the Officer was controlling the nanodroids manually, taking time and attention away from someone else. Inefficient. But it was the best that could be done considering the circumstances. The commanding officer took priority. He couldn't fight without his legs, he couldn't lead. It was imperative that his body remain intact.

He breathed in again and felt his lungs filling with oxygen. A welcome change. But as he shifted and moved with his newfound freedom and strength, the tentacles began to glow and tighten once again.

"Tchh..." he sneered at them.

So much to do, some much to recover and he was trapped at the whim of some witless boy.

He would have expected such power from Lord Vader or the Emperor but Ezra Bridger? Somewhere along the lines, he'd failed to see the threat, if it was even there.

The boy seemed clueless as to his own abilities but perhaps therein lied the difference between the religions of the Jedi and the Sith.

Palpatine had never wavered in his commitment to power. Never had trouble recognising or nurturing it. But the boy had no firm grasp of his own capabilities. Careful study had shown that Bridger simply stumbled between masters and mentors, searching for an answer without finding anything concrete, making the erratic nature of his movements hard to predict. Even for Thrawn.

Without information, without knowledge of the Jedi, he could only speculate as to the enemy's strategy, if, at all, there was one. But the key failure on Thrawn's part was believing the Emperor could convince the boy to join him. Bridger wanted to free Lothal of Imperial occupation so desperately that nothing Palpatine could offer him would suffice. And the Seventh Fleet had suffered for it. /

_His Fleet._

It would take years to repair or replace every single ship that was lost. Years of petitioning on Coruscant for funds with this incredible defeat dragging him down every step of the way. His relations with Palpatine would be on thin ice and neither Pryce nor Yularen could help him.

Thrawn was trapped. Entangled by the very bureaucracy he sought to exploit. His unending victories had kept him above reproach until now. Until a reckless young rebel with nothing to his name had stood in the way.

But unlike Nightswan, Ezra Bridger had the Force on his side.

It wasn't something Thrawn could comprehend or anticipate. Not accurately. Enhanced physical abilities and a form of telekinesis were all he could piece together from recordings of the rebels. And there were precious few records of the Jedi left in the galaxy which made the Temple on Lothal such an important discovery. Only a scattering of practitioners remained, living out the rest of their lives as hermits or recruited into the Inquisitorius. Or they had been, until Lord Vader grew jealous enough to slaughter them.

Thrawn sighed.

This Force business was beyond him but the Emperor placed so much stock in it, he had no choice but to brave the waters of the unknown.

Taking a piece of the Jedi Temple back to Coruscant was not the job of an Imperial Star Destroyer or a Grand Admiral. The Mining Guild had been commissioned to send a ship and excavation crew to Lothal for this express purpose but Palpatine insisted that Thrawn take it aboard. Along with Ezra Bridger.

It was a logical choice, given Veris Hydan's failure to maintain control of the situation. But it seemed Thrawn was just as ill-equipped to handle one foolhardy boy and a magical tomb. No. Something far more powerful than a Star Destroyer or a Death Star was at work here. Perhaps, despite all of Lord Vader's posturing, the Force truly was the most formidable weapon in the galaxy.

But it didn't matter. The Force was powerless against Thrawn's true enemy. And his fleet was powerless against the Force. Cycles of power, repeatedly smashing each other to pieces. He had to find a solution. And soon.

"Hey," Bridger called out. "Guess what I found?" He was carrying an armful of packages and bars wrapped in regulation vacpacs.

"Survivors?" Thrawn said.

"Uuh... no." The boy looked at the foodstuffs in his arms. "Food." He smiled. "Want some?"

The Admiral looked down at him apprehensively.

_"Admiral, this is Officer Hague. We've got a bit of a situation down here."_

"Come on. You gotta be hungry," Bridger said, crossing the walkway.

"What?" Thrawn said.

_"Commodore Faro has been gone for over twenty five minutes and the gravity stabiliser is dangerously unbalanced. I'm afraid it won't hold much longer."_

"I said you gotta be hungry. It's been ages."

"I'm inclined to agree with you," Thrawn said carefully.

_"Should we switch the generator back on and hope the tentacles will shift back to their original position?"_

"You like bantha flavour?"

"Yes. And the other as well."

_"You want us to switch off the other generator?"_

"You like fire flakes too?" Bridger raised an eyebrow.

"Yes."

_"What about Commodore Faro's team? What if she doesn't return before the pathway is blocked again?_

"Woops, I dropped it," Bridger said, struggling with the armful of rations.

"Then you will have to do it all over again," Thrawn said surreptitiously.

_"Understood, Admiral. I will keep you updated."_ The static cleared.

"Yeah, don't get all smug about it," Bridger said, kneeling down to dump the vacpacks on the floor. "This is harder than it looks."

"Actually, I've changed my mind."

"Seriously?" The boy looked up at him with distaste. "Fine. Be that way." He bit into the ration.

Thrawn observed his passive aggressive chewing while an unpleasant heat radiated up his spine. The nano droids were drilling into his back to install reinforcements pins in his spinal chord. And it **hurt.**

"Mmm," he couldn't help a groan and closed his eyes.

"What is it?" Bridger said quickly, on alert.

"The nano droids are working," he said. "That is all."

"You can say it hurts, y'know," Bridger smirked. "I know you're in pain."

_"Admiral. Commodore Faro,"_ her voice emerged through static.

"Yes," he said.

"Well, at least you admit it. Do you need pain dampeners?"

_"Admiral, we've found Major Tsujin and Commander Laikan but we took too long coming back and now the passage is blocked. What are your orders?"_

"Wait."

"For you to start coughing up blood again?" Bridger smirked.

_"Did you order the generator to restart? There are tentacles all over the place."_

"Give them time to stabilise."

"Are you talking about the Endies?" Bridger said curiously as Faro talked over him.

_"Did they unbalance the ship? Damn it! I thought we had more time. Are you going to shut down the generator once the gravity is stable?"_

"Yes."

"Well, alright." The boy finished eating and wiped his mouth.

_"Understood, Admiral. We'll hold our position here."_

Thrawn winced as the pins went in, burning through his back. It was a thoroughly unpleasant sensation and though he had experienced worse, it was clear he needed to meditate to retain mental stability.

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. Focus on the task at hand and the world fades away. No pain, no distractions, only-

"So, how old are you?" Bridger interrupted.

Thrawn breathed out quietly. The boy's aura no longer grew cold at the sight of him. The fear he once inspired was evaporating and Bridger appeared to have reverted to a casual tone that meant he was at ease.

Something made him feel safer than before. Something he'd found or done in his absence, perhaps? Was it the food? Or something other? Both?

"Cos you don't look that old," Bridger said, taking another bite of rations. "I thought Grand Admirals were supposed to be super ancient like the Emperor."

Thrawn closed his eyes again, weathering the sting in his back.

"Imperial ranks are determined by skill, experience and political outreach, not age."

"Huh..." Bridger swallowed. "Did you fight in the Clone Wars then?"

Thrawn opened his eyes suddenly.

"Yes," the word left his mouth with a quiet intensity that made the boy shiver.

"Oh..." he said, the aura on his face cooling. But he didn't look away. "Did you... side with the Separatists?"

"I had no allegiance to either side of the conflict. I fought alongside a man named Anakin Skywalker," he said coolly. "Nothing more."

"No way!" Bridger's eyes lit up like headlights and his aura regained its warmth. "You fought alongside _the_ Anakin Skywalker?!"

Thrawn was a little surprised by the volume of his voice. The excitement of the young Jedi became palpable as he leaned forward, eager to hear more.

"Our paths crossed several times," the Admiral said calmly.

"You're kidding! When? Where?" Bridger demanded.

"Wild Space mostly," Thrawn said, "The edges of the Republic. The Unknown Regions."

"What was he like?" the boy fired up. "Rex said he could take down a battalion of droids all on his own! And his lightsaber was blue and brighter than a sun. And Ahsoka said he was super kind to everyone he met, like, the best Jedi ever! Not that Kanan wasn't great but..." He twiddled his fingers sheepishly.

"He was a powerful warrior," Thrawn agreed. "Headstrong and eager to help those he'd never met before."

Bridger hung onto his every word, eyes wide and bright. Predictably, like a child. For only a child could maintain such beliefs in heroes and villains and freedom so strongly.

"What happened to him?" Bridger said.

The Admiral looked down at him, feeling the darkness enveloping his own face. What became of Anakin Skywalker was unthinkable.

"He's gone," he said quietly. "There's nothing left of him."

"That bad, huh?" Ezra sighed, hugging his knees. "Was it the Empire?"

The Admiral nodded slowly.

Palpatine's Empire had swallowed it all. The Republic. The Jedi. The trust between Humans and aliens. Even his friend. 

A master stroke known as Order 66.

Knowledge of the plot was stricken from record. Thrawn himself could not do better.

"Do you think... if the Republic was still around..." Bridger said. "That things would be different?"

"Yes," Thrawn said sternly, "I would never have come here."

Bridger looked up at him, a spark of fear reignited in the sapphire eyes. His aura drew back, growing cold and he hugged his knees a little tighter.

The Empire was the reason Mitth'raw'nuruodo had left the Unknown Regions. The Republic was a mess of worlds, fighting over resources and wealth. But the Empire was a stable hierarchy of planets with a massive military force, ready for him to take control. Until now…

_"Admiral,"_ the static buzzed through his ear. _"This is Commodore Faro. We've secured passage to the starboard side of decks thirteen, fifteen and sixteen. What's your status?"_

"I need to get out of here," Thrawn said, unable to completely contain his irritation.

"Oh yeah? How you gonna do that?" Bridger smirked.

_"Admiral, this is Officer Hague. Commander Faro's team still haven't returned from their mission. Should we send out a search party?"_

"Patience," he said. "Communication with the rest of the ship is key."

"Aaw no, I'm not calling those stuck up Imps again."

"You need to contact Commodore Faro through the terminal."

_"Of course!"_ Hague said. _"The Commodore's personal wristlink is patched into it."_

"Who's Commodore Faro?"

There was a hiss of static.

_"Commodore? Do you read?"_

_"Loud and clear, Hague. We're heading to your location now. Prep ten gurneys. We've got two injured officers and eight stormtroopers coming in hot."_

_"Understood. Ready to receive you."_

"Commodore Faro was once Captain of the Chimaera," Thrawn explained as the voices disappeared.

"Was?" Bridger raised an eyebrow.

"She has been promoted since, but the Task Force I promised is unready to receive her."

"Unready?" Bridger grimaced and leaned back.

Thrawn did not look at him, silently relieved that Faro was alive and aboard the Chimaera and not drifting around aimlessly with the 273rd Task Force, protecting trade routes in the Mid Rim like a common escort. It was a waste of the Commodore's talents which he sorely required at this moment.

"Have you checked communications recently?" he asked Bridger.

The boy startled after the long silence.

"What? No." He blinked. "Why would i?"

"Perhaps there are yet more survivors that have been able to repair their outlets of communication."

The boy looked up at him apprehensively.

"How do I know this isn't a trap?"

"You don't," Thrawn said calmly. "But I would like to establish a total death count for this incursion."

The statement had the desired effect, summoning just enough guilt in the boy to overrule his reservations. Bridger rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and made his way over to the active terminal down in the pit.

"What am I looking for?"

"Any frequencies that were not previously listed."

Bridger tapped a few buttons, searching for new entries but his face betrayed the emptiness of that list.

Thrawn closed his eyes.

"Huh. That's a new one."

And immediately opened them.

"It says... Aft Cargo Hold 32."

"Interesting." Thrawn's face maintained a controlled neutrality.

"Should I..."

"Yes."

Bridger sighed and reluctantly pressed the call button.

"Uuuh... hello?"

"..."

"Hello, is there anyone there?"

"... ...."

"Thrawn?" Bridger looked over at him fearfully but the Chiss just shook his head.

He quickly ended the call and swallowed. Hard.

"W-what was that?"

"A malfunction, most likely," Thrawn said.

"It sounded like..." Bridger whispered. "...someone breathing."

"It's just the static, Mr Bridger. You have nothing to fear."

"Says you."

"Indeed."

The boy shook his head.

"No survivors then."

_"Admiral, we've found thirty three more soldiers on the port side of level thirteen."_

"Aft Cargo Hold 32 appears to be intact, though whether there are any survivors remains unclear."

"You think there could be someone down there?"

_"Aft Cargo Hold-"_ Faro cut off as it dawned on him. _"You don't mean-"_

"Yes," Thrawn said. "But they will have to wait."

_"I see."_

Bridger sighed and climbed up to sit on the edge of the pit.

"So what do we do now?" he said.

"We?" Thrawn raised an eyebrow.

The boy looked over his shoulder. "Remember what you said before?"

The crimson eyes narrowed.

"What happens to you will happen to me too, right?"

Thrawn nodded.

"Right now, all we can do is wait," he said coolly.

Ezra turned away and looked down at his hands. Even Thrawn didn't have a plan to get out of this mess. Or he did and he wasn't sharing it. Either way, the Chiss didn't trust him enough to say much more. And why should he?

They were enemies.

Ezra frowned. He closed his eyes and reached into the Force.

Kanan had told him so many times that hate was the path to the dark side. But he couldn't help it. He hated the Empire. He hated the people that took his parents away, that took everyone Ezra had ever cared about away. And his home, nearly destroyed by Thrawn and his factories.

It made him furious to think about the farmers he knew, enslaved to make TIE Defenders and speeders for Imperial troops who would continue to spread terror throughout the galaxy. The image of Lothal's grasslands and skyline, all polluted and ruined made him sick. And the Jedi Temple, ripped from its very roots in the ground and desecrated beyond measure. It all made Ezra furious.

But his contemplation was interrupted by a frightening reptilian hiss the likes of which he had never heard. It reverberated through the steely bridge and Ezra quickly turned his head to find it had come from Thrawn who was struggling against the tentacles that tightened painfully around him.

"Stop!" Ezra called out. He was up on his feet before he could think about it and dashed for the purple tendrils that whipped past him as he ran.

Ezra reached the heaving mass and pulled at the glowing tentacle closest to him but it was no good. He wasn't strong enough.

Thrawn grit his teeth and snarled through the pain. "Calm yourself," he said.

Ezra froze.

"What?"

"It's responding to your anger," Thrawn hissed through his teeth. "Calm yourself."

"No. It couldn't be..." He let go of the tentacle and took a step back.

The many Purrgil limbs froze in the air and stopped thrashing, stopped tightening.

"Breathe," Thrawn instructed, struggling to do so himself.

And Ezra let go of the air trapped in his lungs. It came out sharply and the tentacles around him relaxed and gently touched down on the floor. He stared at them in shock.

"H-how-"

Thrawn coughed violently as the Purrgil eased up and settled.

"You control these creatures," he said, as though it were obvious.

"No, I don't," Ezra said. "I just... talk to them. Sorta. Through the Force."

"You're doing more than talking to them," Thrawn noted. "Do you not see?"

"What?"

"I'm the only you haven't killed yet." The crimson eyes glowed eerily.

"I didn't kill anyone." Ezra shook his head. "It was an accident."

"No accident," Thrawn said, far more sure than he'd been with a gun in his hand. "Your subconscious thoughts and emotions are what influence these beasts, with the Force a conduit."

"I never wanted to kill anyone."

"On the surface. But all that has transpired is a by-product of your true desires," Thrawn said. "You wished the Seventh Fleet destroyed. You wished to stop me. You wished the Empire to leave Lothal, myself embodying its threat. And now, here we are."

"No." Ezra shook his head. "I just wanted Lothal to be safe."

"In so doing, you have brought about the death of tens of thousands if not hundreds of people," Thrawn said coldly. "Don't disrespect them by denying it. Such is the price of war."

Ezra took a step back and swallowed, his collar uncomfortably tight around his neck.

"No..." he muttered. "No."

He looked up at Thrawn. A trickle of blood had escaped the Chiss's mouth and trickled down his chin.

"And now you don't know what you desire," he said. "So we are trapped in perpetual oblivion until you decide."

Ezra swallowed again.

"I'm tired of fighting," he said, angry tears forming in his eyes. "I just want Lothal to be safe from the Empire." He looked at his hands guiltily. "And if that means being stuck here with you forever, then I'm fine with that." He sniffed and turned away.

"Where are you going?" Thrawn called to him as he started walking.

"Away from you!"


	5. Chapter 5

Thrawn frowned and coughed painfully. The durallium reinforcing his sternum held true but his rib had dislodged and stabbed him in the lung again. He concentrated on staying still and letting the nano droids repair the damage. But soon they would run out of materials and begin crumbling in his bloodstream. He couldn't afford to anger the boy again, though he seemed more than capable of angering himself.

_"Admiral, Commodore Faro,"_ the static buzzed.

"I read you."

_"What's going on up there?"_

"It's over," Thrawn said.

_"Officer Hague says you've experienced more trauma. The entire ship was shaking. What happened?"_

"Ezra Bridger seems to have a connection to the creatures that attacked us. He's subconsciously controlling them but refuses to accept it. Be mindful."

_"With all due respect, sir, that makes no sense,"_ Faro said desperately. _"What are we supposed to do?"_

"Make a push for Aft Cargo Hold 32. Find Command Team Nine and tell them I gave you my authority. Contact me on this frequency if they resist."

_"Yes, sir,"_ Faro responded dutifully. _"What about the others?"_

"Tell Officer Hague to rest as soon as he's done with me. Have one of the crewers create a rotation in the medical bay," Thrawn said. "I want you to gather all the able-bodied survivors and split them into teams. One technician, one fire suppression officer, one medic and two to three combat specialists. Your priorities are restoring communications throughout the ship, recovering survivors and clearing a path to the bridge. Is that understood?"

_"Yes, Admiral. We'll do our best."_ She stopped talking but the static didn't disappear. _"Are you sure you're alright?"_

"Your concern is misplaced, Commodore."

_"Ah. My apologies, sir. I'll get started immediately."_

And then the static ended.

Thrawn took a sharp breath. He could feel the Endies drifting back toward his chest to repair the damage. It was no less painful the second time but nothing compared to radiation burns. He could vividly picture the scene down in the storeroom below; Officer Hague and his assistants struggling to treat wounds without the right equipment. The number of survivors would dwindle until the injured joined the dead.

And breaking free of the tentacles wouldn't help in this case. He would still be trapped, wandering the halls of the Command Tower and returning back to the bridge every so often, just as Bridger was.

He needed to prepare for their inevitable departure from hyperspace. He needed a way to steer, accelerate and decelerate despite the damage to those command consoles on the bridge and no doubt, the ship. Perhaps with enough engineers working manually across the Chimaera...

_"This is Commander Laikan,"_ the static fizzled. _"Grand Admiral, do you read me?"_

"Yes. Commodore Faro gave you the frequency." It wasn't a question.

_"Yes, sir. It's good to hear your voice. We feared the worst."_

"What have you found?"

_"Oh. Yes. Well, we didn't exactly find them. Noghri Command Team Nine found us while we were clearing level thirty two."_

"They wish to speak," Thrawn said. It wasn't a question. "Put them through."

_"They hear you, sir."_

"Good. Attention: Noghri Death Commandos. The Seventh Fleet has been attacked by an enemy of the Empire - Ezra Bridger. His location is the Command Tower. My location is the forward observation deck on the bridge."

A low growling noise competed with the static.

"You will assist Commander Laikan and his team in clearing a path to the bridge as quickly as possible without causing further damage to the ship. Capture Ezra Bridger and bring him to me unconscious. Is that understood?"

_"Yes, Admiral,"_ a deep voice replied, somewhere between a growl and a croak.

"Use caution and stealth if you find the boy."

_"Understood."_

The sound of many feet slamming against durasteel filled his ears as the Noghri quickly leapt into action, navigating the wreckage of the Chimaera's halls with ease.

_"Sh-should we follow them, sir?"_ Laikan asked fearfully.

"Yes. Open short range communications and broadcast the Noghri's movements so that survivors are not taken by surprise. Do not open fire."

_"Understood, sir,"_ Commander Laikan said and the static vanished.

Thrawn carefully let his head fall back, listening to the oxygen escaping his joints. At least he could move it. The Endies had managed to dislodge his ribs and he breathed a little easier knowing that help was on its way.

\---

Ezra stalked through the banged up corridors of the Chimaera aimlessly. He had no idea where he was going, as long as it was somewhere far away from Thrawn.

"Karrabast!" He kicked at a broken hydrospanner and sent it skidding down the corridor. He sat down on a toppled GNK droid and dumped his head in his hands.

The stupid blue man was right.

This was all Ezra's fault. Just like the Imperial from Lothal had said. He was responsible for all the people that died as a result of the Purrgil attack. And many more Imperials besides.

But this was war.

There wasn't some special magic way to defeat the Empire without fighting like he used to believe. There was a time when Ezra thought the Force could solve all his problems. And even Kanan had taught him to expect answers from the mystical energies but they never came through. The more temples and knowledge he sought, the worse things got. Though in retrospect, sharing holocrons with Darth Maul was probably a bad idea. It led him to Tatooine and Obi-wan Kenobi and even Malachor and the world between worlds. And still, nothing seemed to make any sense.

Ezra sighed.

There was no use being angry. Just as there was no use chasing Force prophecies and temples just to have them stolen by the Emperor they were trying to defeat. It all seemed so hopeless sometimes that he just wanted to give up.

But he couldn't. Even when he thought back to his life on the streets of Lothal, stealing scraps from the Imperials. Life was a struggle. It didn't change when the Ghost crew picked him up. It didn't change when he built his first lightsaber or when he killed an Imperial for the first time. It was always a struggle. Always.

But Ezra Bridger was a survivor.

He got up and stretched and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Thrawn had poked a sore spot but he was right about something. Ezra had defeated the Seventh Fleet and thousands of Imperials lost their lives. The galaxy could not ignore that. The Empire couldn't simply sweep it under the rug. People would notice and people would care. And maybe, just maybe, they would rise up and fight back, just like him.

He started back down the durasteel corridors. He had to stop running away from his problems like this. It was only too easy to wander off into the grassy plains of Lothal and have a Loth-wolf fever dream but the Chimaera was dangerous. The fuselage was crumpled, the cabling sputtered and spat and there was debris everywhere.

Suddenly, the tentacles skewering the corridor began to shift. They slithered away abruptly and Ezra could hear a distant thundering somewhere down below.

"Huh?" He leaned onto his knees and stared at the hole in the floor. "Hello?" his voice echoed down into the durasteel depths but there was no reply.

Ezra shrugged and side-stepped the crevice, returning to the bridge once again to find that Thrawn hadn't moved. The Chiss was breathing heavily, his eyes closed. He didn't say anything when Ezra came strolling down the walkway but the young Jedi was wary now.

"You awake?" he said, eyes narrowing in suspicion but the Admiral didn't reply.

Ezra waved a hand in front of his face just to be sure and when the glowing red eyes opened he very much regretted doing so.

"Ah!" he exclaimed and jumped back. "Quit being so scary!"

"Did you find something?" Thrawn said quietly, followed by several uncomfortable coughs. 

"Huh? Uh... no," Ezra admitted.

The glowing red eyes looked down at him curiously.

"I just..." he said. "I dunno."

"As you've said."

Ezra turned away and folded his arms.

"I don't want to kill you," he said. "I don't like killing people. It's not something a Jedi does. Not if they can help it."

"You're stalling," Thrawn said simply. "Working up the courage to do what is necessary and delaying with excuses."

"They're not excuses!" Ezra turned to face him suddenly. "I'm not a murderer like you. I don't enjoy hurting people. And I hate that I had to do all this but you gave us no choice."

Thrawn studied the look on his face.

"I gave you two choices," the Chiss said frankly. "But you chose neither."

Ezra swallowed. He'd surrendered himself to the Empire to give the rebels more time to pull off their daring plot but he never intended to go to Coruscant with the Grand Admiral. He never intended to let Capital City get bombarded either. Somehow, he'd created a third option.

So what was the third option here?

"I don't want to kill you," Ezra said. "Because that's not who I am. And I can't let you live and go free. You'll just kill me and go back to Lothal to finish what you started."

"A reasonable assumption."

"Is that all you can say?" Ezra demanded hotly.

"No," Thrawn said. "I could offer you wealth, power, ships, whatever the Empire can provide. But you would not accept them on principle."

Ezra frowned. He was right.

"I cannot offer Lothal amnesty and you would not believe me if I did."

Ezra swallowed. "I... maybe..."

"In that case, I would not trust _your_ word," Thrawn said. "And you would simply kill me at the slightest misstep."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Ezra said. "I want to save Lothal from the Empire. I want it to be free. If that's what it takes..."

"You don't trust me," Thrawn said simply, eyes drilling into his soul. "Nor should you."

"Why?"

"We are enemies," Thrawn explained. "But we are not traitors. Do you understand?"

Ezra took a step back.

"You mean you're loyal to the Empire," he said thoughtfully. "You won't come to our side like Kallus. And I won't join you so..."

Thrawn nodded.

"This fleet you've destroyed is a mere portion of the ships under my control. And as Grand Admiral, I still have enough to crush the Resistance once I find it."

Ezra shook his head.

"How can you be so loyal to the Empire? You're not even human."

"My reasons are my own," Thrawn darkened. "So. Are you finally going to kill me, Ezra Bridger?"

The young Jedi glared up at him defiantly.

"No," he said. "Not yet."

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

"So then her dad says: 'Are you with Sabine?'" Ezra said. "And I'm like 'Yeah, I'm with her. I mean, I'm not  _with her_  with her.' Does that make sense?"

He looked up at the Chiss Grand Admiral whose bright red eyes betrayed nothing but a twinkle of murderous intent.

"And then we rescued him and hugged it out but we never talked about it or anything," Ezra continued without waiting for a response. He was never very comfortable with silence.

"I mean I've never really talked about it with her at all," he realised, picking at his boots. "And I just feel like-" He paused to think.

What was he doing? This was the last place to talk about it. And with the last person in the galaxy. Why was he bringing it up all of a sudden? This was just going to make Thrawn hate him even more.

He sighed and hugged his knees glumly.

"Your relationship with Sabine Wren is precariously placed between platonic and romantic and you fear risking what you already have for something that could end in ruin."

Ezra looked up wild eyed to find the same stern face of the Grand Admiral looking down at him.

"Yeah!" he said, hopping up to his knees. "I mean, what if she doesn't feel the same way? What if she likes someone else? What if it ruins our friendship and makes everything weird between us?"

He sat back down. "I mean... I really  _do_ like her. Am I being selfish?"

Thrawn looked down at him patiently.

"Your feelings are irrelevant if she does not reciprocate them," he said.

"But how do I know if she does?" Ezra demanded.

"Ask."

"Are you crazy?!" Ezra threw up his hands. "I can't do that. She's-  I-  I can't"

"Then you will continue torturing yourself and belittling your friendship."

"But-"

"Sabine Wren is a talented artist, inventor and warrior with a keen sense of leadership, perhaps even the next Mandalore," Thrawn said pointedly. "She will not seek out the meek or the average in her journey toward self-realisation."

"I'm not meek-"

"Her work is bold and defiant, focused on colour and broad strokes over line and detail which is why she has overlooked your development throughout the years."

"She shows her inspiration through striking visual metaphor. Things like fire and explosions, creatures such as the phoenix. These are all symbols of liberty through perseverance and strength; the unquenchable thirst to improve upon what already is and rise up through adversity."

Ezra gawked up at him, trying to comprehend the words.

"Soooo...." his mind whirred, gears turning, straining, processing. "You're saying I need to do something big and flashy to get her attention?"

Thrawn closed his eyes and opened them very deliberately.

"No," he said.

"No?"

"Further study of her work shows that she paints from life. The Phoenix and the explosions and fire are part of your day to day activities aboard the Ghost. But so are you and your crewmates, the lothcats and Mandalorian traditions she honours," Thrawn said.

"To truly impress yourself upon her, you must become an enriching force for good in her mind. An inspiring muse to which she can ascribe an affinity."

"But... how am I supposed to inspire her?" Ezra asked candidly. "She knows everything about me. You said it yourself, we basically grew up together. It's like she's my sister  _and_  my best friend."

Thrawn coughed unpleasantly, his condition only slightly improved.

"Inspiration can come from any aspect of life," he said.

"Soooo," Ezra contemplated, stroking his chin. "You're saying I should just be myself?" He presented his palms face up.

"Presenting a false if better version of yourself is akin to a lie," Thrawn pointed out. "And lies are a poor basis for any long term relationship."

"But I'm already being myself." Ezra sighed. "There's gotta be something else I can do to get her attention."

"From a tactical point of view, taking an interest in her endeavours would allow you to place yourself close to the object of your affection while simultaneously learning more about her personally."

"Oh, you mean like helping her with her art and Mandalorian stuff?"

Thrawn nodded. "Precisely."

"Huh... you seem to know a lot about her." Ezra narrowed his eyes suspiciously but Thrawn's expression remained painfully neutral.

"Her talent for vandalism and the manufacture of explosive devices leaves quite an obvious trail to follow," he said. "As do you."

 _"Me?"_   Ezra smirked. "What did _I_ do?"

 _"Your_  signature manoeuvre is the infiltration of an Imperial vessel or outpost, whether by impersonating an officer or giving yourself up as a prisoner. You follow by slicing into our systems with an outdated astromech or stealing whatever it is your crew requires. And finally, you reveal yourself through carelessness and fight your way out using your lightsaber instead of your head."

"Hey! I've used my head plenty of times."

"My meaning was figurative."

Ezra grimaced at the slight to his intelligence but then it dawned him.

"Wait," he said. "That's exactly what just happened."

He looked up at Thrawn in disbelief.

"You knew what I was going to do when I came on board."

"I suspected."

"Then why did you let me surrender?"

"It was the will of the Emperor that you come aboard as anything but a prisoner." The red eyes glittered in the dark.

"The Emperor..." Ezra whispered, remembering the temple ruins. "He gave you an order?"

"Many orders," Thrawn said. "As well as a paltry detachment of Royal Guards to ensure the Jedi temple, the TIE Defender and you, all arrived safely on one ship."

"Sounds like you don't approve," Ezra pointed out.

"I would have used a different strategy."

"Then you disagreed," Ezra said smugly. "You disagreed with the Emperor! That's why you went to Coruscant."

"I had good reason to suspect this course of action would lead to undesirable outcomes." Thrawn took a strained breath. "As you can see."

"If you were smart enough to see this coming, you gotta be smart enough to know what the Empire is doing isn't right," Ezra implored but Thrawn's expression remained unmoved.

"My duty is to carry out the Emperor's will," he said coldly. "In spite of any reservations."

"What? Why?"

"My reasons are my own."

"Oh, come on," Ezra said. "He used you to steal a Jedi temple and kidnap me. Doesn't that make you angry?"

"No," the Chiss said with the same painfully neutral expression.

"Seriously? Not even a little?"

Thrawn closed his eyes and opened them very deliberately but he didn't answer. Shadows played on the sharp contours of his face and he looked away for a moment as if listening to some far away voice. And then his eyes narrowed, detecting something.

"What is it?" Ezra said, tilting his head.

"We're about to have company." 

"What?!" He jumped to his feet to search for the incoming party.

"Stay calm and do not resist. I have instructed them not to harm you."

"You- you were stalling!" Ezra realised, eyes wide. "I can't believe it. You kept me talking so I wouldn't notice the Imperials coming to kill me!" His hands curled into fists.

"They are not coming to kill you. And it would be wise for you to remain calm in this situation."

"Wise?! Calm?!" Ezra spat and the Purrgil tentacles around them began slithering and snapping. "You're a monster."

"Regardless of your opinion," Thrawn said breathlessly as their hold tightened. "My word is the only thing that will keep you alive in the next few minutes."

Ezra shook his head angrily and turned to walk away.

Why did he ever believe he could reason with an Imperial like Thrawn? Why?

Every single word coming out of that twisted blue mouth had been said to manipulate him. Yet Ezra still found himself talking so casually they might have been friends. It was Darth Maul all over again. Only Kanan wasn't there to shield him from his own mistakes anymore.

He'd played right into the former Sith's hands on Malachor and Tatooine and now it was happening again. Only this time...

"Wait!" Thrawn called to his back. "I gave you two choices before. But there is another."

Ezra stopped in his tracks, the Force prickling at his neck.

 _The third option._  

He thought it would be convincing Thrawn to spare Lothal and oppose the Empire. But even if the young Jedi succeeded in turning the Grand Admiral to the Rebellion as Zeb had turned Kallus, the rest of the Empire was out of his control.

He turned slowly to find the Chiss watching him, studying him. The bright red eyes glittered through the dark silhouette.

"What is it?" Ezra asked cautiously.

"I cannot describe it here," Thrawn said. "We need to leave hyperspace before what remains of the ship breaks apart. We need to land on a planet without eyes or ears before I tell you any more."

"You expect me to believe that?" Ezra spat and turned away again.

It was his anger talking now. Anger at having fallen for yet another of Thrawn's traps. This offer was an empty promise, based entirely upon Ezra trusting his nemesis. Which he promised himself to never do again.

"You want to live," Thrawn called to him. "So do I."

Ezra shook his head. He didn't want to die but he had prepared himself for the possibility. After Kanan's sacrifice, everything had become much more clear cut. He wasn't afraid.

"We've reached another stalemate," Thrawn pointed out as Ezra stepped into the very same spot. "And as I said before, whatever happens next, will happen to both of us."

"Then it's better if we both go down," Ezra said darkly.

"No, it isn't," Thrawn hissed. "I'm not done yet!"

Ezra frowned and raised a hand. He pulled the Force in to constrict the Admiral's throat and squeezed. Hard. Pulling strained gasps from the Chiss. But the red eyes were still bright.

"I won't let you take Lothal," Ezra said. "I've come this fa-"

Bridger collapsed and the Force choking Thrawn disappeared. He breathed in immediately, coughing and sputtering as air entered his withered lungs.

"No," he rasped as the gaffi stick came down to strike at the boy. The steel tipped pole stopped just short of his neck and hovered in mid-air.

"Don't kill him," Thrawn managed to say and the Noghri Death Commando shed his stealth field.

It was Bruahir. The Captain. Grey skinned and stocky, thick arms and legs bulging with muscle through leather armour. He turned and sniffed, relaxing the brutish features of his snouted face.

"As you wish, Grand Admiral," he growled and took a knee.

The rest of the Noghri came bounding onto the bridge, stepping off fallen girders and debris, not nearly so stealthy as their Captain. They shed their disguises and quickly followed Bruahir's lead.

The sound of urgent footsteps rattled the distant stairs and soon Imperial officers and Stormtroopers followed the Noghri, filling up the space where there was room to stand.

"Admiral!" Commander Laikan called out, rushing down the walkway but not before running into the boy's unconscious body.

"This filth is still alive?" he hissed and raised the rifle in his hands. "I'll finish him myself."

"No," Thrawn forbid.

The zealous officer looked up apprehensively.

"We need him," the Admiral wheezed. "He controls the creatures somehow. His death will only provoke them further."

"Hmmph." Laikan pulled back.

"Someone find a pair of binders," he called to the assembled company. They shuffled and scuffled and soon saw the boy handcuffed.

"The bridge is secure," the Stormtrooper Captain said as his subordinates formed a perimeter.

"Good," Thrawn nodded.

"Sir?" Laikan worded, taking off his helmet.

Dark hair fell into his pale green eyes and he brushed it back with a gloved hand as he walked up to examine the multitude of tentacles holding the Grand Admiral aloft.

"Are you alright?" He poked at the purple mass with his blaster carbine. The blue stripes glowed eerily brighter on each tendril. "I think we can get through this with an fusion cutter..."

"That won't be necessary," Thrawn said.

"Sir?"

"Your priority is repairing the bridge and establishing communications with the rest of the ship."

Laikan quickly straightened up to salute.

"Yes, sir."

"Captain Bruahir and one other Noghri Commando will stay to guard the boy," Thrawn said. "The rest of Command Team Nine - sweep the Tower for survivors and clear a path through the halls. The fire suppression squad will follow."

The Noghri grunted and stood, beady eyes glinting. They weren't nearly as tall as Commander Laikan, especially on all fours but their presence was far from soothing to any enemy that witnessed the aliens.

The Captain grunted and nodded and all but two left as quickly as they had come, followed by several vac-suited Imperials.

"What about you?" Laikan said.

"Summon Officer Hague. I assume you left a clear route for him to follow."

"Yes, sir. The Noghri have been incredibly helpful in clearing a path." He tapped the comlink in his ear. "This is Commander Laikan, we've secured the bridge. The Grand Admiral requests Officer Hague's presence."

There was a pause and then he nodded.

"He's on his way, sir."

"Tell them to send more technicians and repair droids if there are any to spare."

"Understood," he relayed the details.

"Sir!" Officer Tebeni popped up out of the starboard pit. "I've run a diagnostic. The Communications Tower is non-responsive. The internal network is running but badly damaged. All we've got is personal coms at this point."

"How fast are we travelling? Do we have a location?" Thrawn replied quickly.

"I don't know, sir," she responded, wide-eyed and nudged her colleague.

"The navicomputer looks beyond repair," Lieutenant Lomar sighed, holding up the pieces.

"Steering gear and engineering consoles are buried under each other," Ensign Peela called out from the other pit. "And these tentacles aren't helping."

"The shields are still working," Thrawn considered. His eyes flickered toward the red control panel. "Scan the projection area for collisions and map the creature's body in relation to the ship."

"Aye, sir."

A groan was emitted from the port side pit and a brown faced Human emerged with a hydrospanner in hand. "Sir, we need help lifting the debris. It won't budge."

Commander Laikan quickly pointed to several Stormtroopers who they put down their weapons to help.

"I've got a basic scan," Peela called out. "There are three creatures latched onto the bow and one on the Command Tower. Large obstructions on the Communications Tower and the Fore Weapons Stations. Turbolasers and Missile Launchers non-responsive."

"And something's interfering with our long range scanners and relays," Tebeni added.

"The creatures are likely covering our sensor cluster," Thrawn said pensively, regarding the tentacles around him for a moment.

"The Purrgil must be generating their own protective hyperfield around points of contact," he concluded. "It's preventing massive deformation of the ship in hyperspace but also cutting off our long range communications."

"Transmissions through hyperspace are difficult enough with a _working_ transceiver." Officer Tebeni shook her head. "What are we going to do with a broken com tower and all this interference?"

"Commander Laikan." Thrawn turned his head. "Can you describe the state of the aft?"

The officer sighed. "Moderate damage to the upper floors, sir. Same in the mid-section. Minimal on the lower floors, thankfully. Otherwise, the reactor would have blown. There are holes everywhere, though. Left by the migrating Purrgil tentacles, no doubt. Commodore Faro and her team were on their way to inspect the auxiliary reactor when we split up."

"I instructed her to make a push on Aft Cargo Hold 32." Thrawn narrowed his eyes.

"She sent me in her place," Laikan responded. "I thought she was acting under your orders."

"I see," Thrawn said pensively. "Contact Commodore Faro immediately."

"Yes, sir." He tapped at his comlink. "This is Commander Laikan, does anyone have a location on Karyn Faro?" He turned away to listen.

"Officer Tebeni," Thrawn said.

"Admiral!" Her startled face popped up over a broken terminal.

"Prepare to remotely operate a Lambda-class T4-A navicomputer and communications suite."

"Right away, sir." She dropped the omnitool in her hand and disappeared behind the terminal.

Laikan pulled the comlink bud out of his ear and plugged it into his datapad.

"We're listening, Commodore," he said. "What's your location?"

 _"I'm at the forward hangar,"_ Faro replied through the tiny speaker.

Predictable. The Commodore had become much better at anticipating Thrawn's orders since the first time he and Eli Vanto came aboard the Chimaera.

"And?" he said simply.

_"It's not pretty," she said. "Looks like the creatures latched onto the bow have been using it as a foothold."_

"In what way?"

The datapad screen fizzled and an image of the forward hangar became visible from the holocam mounted to Faro's chest plate. Laikan held it up for the Admiral to study.

He saw the many mauve tendrils snaking over the durasteel deck, wrapping themselves around shuttles and transports, carriers and fighters, anything with a hyperdrive in it. Even his TIE Defenders.

He had anticipated as much.

 _"Looks like they pawed around in here until they got a good grip,"_ Faro commented, turning in a circle. _"Oh, hold on."_

She moved forward a little further and tilted back so the holocam could see what she just spotted.

"Your Lambda shuttle," Thrawn said. "In for it's biannual service."

 _"You knew it would still be here,"_ Faro said, her voice characteristically changed by a half-smile.

"The maintenance garage would have protected it from harm," Thrawn said. "It's hyperdrive and engines were removed for cleaning."

_"So the creatures wouldn't come for it."_

"Can you access it?" Thrawn said.

_"I think so. Might require some clever navigating."_

"Contact the bridge once you get inside."

_"Understood."_

A deafening screech of metal filled the bridge as several Stormtroopers attempted to lift a durasteel slab and pull it out of the port side pit. Six men and one very robust technical officer struggled against the weight and caught the Admiral's eye immediately.

"Captain Bruahir," he said quietly. "Please assist them."

The Noghri sniffed and nodded before wandering over to the Humans. He grabbed the durasteel with a single hand and pulled it out, along with several bewildered technicians.

"Thank you... uh, sir," one of them mumbled.

"Yeah... thanks," the other said awkwardly.

"I want a status report on the ship's reactors, sub-light engines, hyperdrive and tractor beam targeting array," Thrawn said sternly and spurred them into action. The crewers disappeared to work and were soon joined by a couple of wayward repair droids that responded to the emergency.

"I'm getting a call over the internal network, sir," Tebeni announced from the starboard pit. "It's a Lambda-class shuttle parked in the forward hangar."

"Put it through."

 _"This is Commodore Faro,"_ she said. _"We're inside the shuttle. No damage. And we found three more survivors in the maintenance garage."_

"Good. Status on the onboard communications and navicomputer?"

_"Functional, sir."_

"Then I want you to send out an emergency signal on all open military frequencies," Thrawn commanded.

_"Right away..."_

They could hear the sound of keys tapping on a console, the static of transmission followed.

_"This is an emergency broadcast from the ISD Chimaera. We've sustained heavy damage and are incapacitated, travelling through hyperspace against our will. Requesting assistance."_

The response was static silence. An empty frequency. It gripped the bridge with an eerie tension and Thrawn could hear the crewers waiting with baited breath.

"Repeat," he said.

 _"This is Commodore Faro of the ISD Chimaera,"_ she said desperately. _"We are incapacitated and travelling through hyperspace against our will. Requesting assistance."_

The bridge grew quiet and tense once more. All waited in hopes of hearing from a friendly voice but Thrawn knew the odds of the signal somehow making it through hyperspace. And he wasn't going to wait for a rescue that would never come.

"Good work, Commodore," he said. "With luck, someone will pick up the transmission and extrapolate our trajectory."

 _"... yes, sir,"_ she said grimly and swallowed. _"Awaiting orders."_

"Officer Tebeni," Thrawn said.

She nodded and climbed out of the starboard pit with the grace of a Gundark on booster blue and snatched up the datapad in Commander Laikan's hand.

"Commodore Faro, please send me the remote access codes for your Lambda shuttle," she said hastily.

 _"Admiral?"_ her voice crept through the static. Imperial Lambda shuttles contained high priority access codes and star charts available only to higher ranking officers and Faro was understandably reluctant in handing them over but she trusted him.

Thrawn nodded. "Proceed."

Tebeni quickly jumped down into the pit while another technical officer manned the terminal. Within a few minutes, they had complete access to the Lambda's systems.

"We're in, sir," Lieutenant Lomar said.

"Do you have our approximate location?"

The red-haired navigation officer scratched his head.

"We're in hyperspace," he said worriedly. "I'll need some time to narrow it down."

"Status on the engineering section?" Thrawn turned his head.

"We've got two terminals working but there's no way to communicate with anyone down there, sir. Diagnostics won't work on systems we can't reach."

"Perhaps we should broadcast another message?" Commander Laikan suggested. "Tell everyone on the Chimaera to use their personal coms and transmit to the Lambda in the forward docking bay."

"Yes, maybe a word from the Admiral will help." Tebeni passed him the datapad.

"I'm a little tied up at the moment," Thrawn said.

Laikan walked over with the datapad and held up the microphone to his face.

"Don't let it stop you, sir," he smiled.

Tebeni popped up again, "You're live."

Thrawn took a tentative breath.

"This is Grand Admiral Thrawn, broadcasting from the bridge of the Chimaera," he said calmly. "Communications are down. All surviving personnel, report in to this frequency using personal comlinks immediately."

"I repeat. Communications are down. All surviving personnel, report in to this frequency using personal comlinks immediately."

There was a momentary pause but within seconds Tebeni's terminal began to light up with transmissions.

_"Three Oh Fifth Infantry Zeta Squad Captain Tiovar reporting in."_

_"Sixty Third Maritime Legion Major Preecher reporting in."_

_"Chimaera Starfighter Squadron Pegasus reporting in."_

_"Imperial MediCorps Chimaera Battalion Squad Three, reporting in."_

"Assign frequencies," Thrawn said.

"Aye, sir." Tebeni began naming them.

"Lieutenant Lomar, Officer Dakaro, assist."

The transmissions overlapped each other, every second bringing more and more messages from across the mile long starship. Messages that suggested perhaps, all hope was not lost.

Mitth'raw'nuruodo closed his eyes and listened. Layers upon layers of speech. Warriors, Officers, Medics, Pilots, Maintenance, and all manner of crewers replied to the summons. And then...

_"Aft Sublight Engineering Deck, Officers Kaylee and Sontl reporting in."_

"There," he said. "Isolate the engineering section and merge the frequencies."

"Aye, sir."

"Officers Kaylee and Sontl, online," Tebeni called.

"Chief Engineer Rosas, online," Dakaro said. "Power Generation Specialist Ashghar, online."

"Engineer Officer Duly, online. Reactor Maintenance Officers Kimpali and Deyudah, online."

"Patch me through," Thrawn instructed.

"Yes, sir," Tebeni said. One of the technicians pulled a dented speaker out of the rubble and tied a microphone to the top. Ensign Peela helped him lift it onto the walkway and plugged it in to act as an improvised comlink.

"Connection established," Tebeni reported.

"Attention: Engineering section," Thrawn said. "The bridge has suffered heavy casualties and major damage to control consoles. Your orders are to coordinate repairs with the technicians on site to regain control over the Chimaera's thrusters, repulsors, manoeuvring jets and tractor beam targeting array."

A resounding round of "Yes, sir," and "Understood" rose up in reply.

The technicians in the port side pit quickly plugged into the makeshift comlink and began the harrowing task of repairing the Chimaera with the engineers below.

Commander Laikan carefully observed the men for a moment before turning to face Thrawn.

"The tractor beams?" he said curiously.

"Yes. I believe they will be crucial to our survival."

"Ah…" Laikan sighed. "I won't pretend to understand, sir," he admitted honestly. "What do we do about the boy?"

"I expect Officer Hague will be here soon."

"Yes, you're right. Let me see if I can contact-"

"That won't be necessary," the old officer called out, waving a hand from across the bridge.

The mustachioed Human was accompanied by several more technicians, Stormtroopers and an MD-5 medical droid that was having some trouble making it through the debris. Hague ran into a similar issue as he entered the bridge and encountered a great many people assisting with clean up and repairs.

He patiently waited for them all to move out of his way and stepped onto the walkway before two menacing grey aliens barred his path.

"Ah, h-hello there," Hague said amicably. "Might I trouble you to let me pass?"

The Noghri sniffed at him and grimaced but moved not an inch.

"Captain," Thrawn's voice drifted over them, "let him pass."

Though reluctantly, the Noghri skulked away to stand by his sides and Hague was treated to an excellent view of Ezra Bridger, unconscious and handcuffed amid the bustling scene.

"Oh," he said. "I see you've captured the Jedi."

"Yes," Thrawn replied. "I would like him to remain unconscious until we're ready to leave hyperspace."

Hague looked up at the Admiral briefly. The bags under his eyes only compounded the age of the skin on his face, every crease casting shadow. He was exhausted, Thrawn could see. But he was not yet spent.

"Yes, of course, Admiral." Hague nodded dutifully and set down his medical supply case.

He quickly pulled out a syringe and injected Bridger with a sedative.

"That should keep him down for a while," he said. "But I suggest keeping those alien commandos around. Not sure how long it will work on these Force Sensitive types."

"Understood. Thank you, Officer."

"Now then." Hague got up wearily. "I hear you've been having some trouble with these tentacles…"

 


	7. Chapter 7

Ezra drifted through the dark pools of unconsciousness restlessly. Visions of the Emperor chasing him through the invisible walkways of the world between worlds rattled his brain. Blue fire and lightning snaked through the air as he ran faster and faster, keeping just out of reach. But he was getting tired, so very tired.

"Keep going, you can make it!" he heard a voice and turned to find a Togrutan woman running beside him, clutching at her singed chest plate.

Her name was Ahsoka Tano and Ezra thought he'd never see her again until a few moments ago.

He nodded and livened his sprint, encouraged by the thought but they were coming to a crossroads and he knew what that meant.

"When you get back," he called to Ahsoka, "come and find me!"

"I will!" she said, already drifting away. "I promise!" And then she reached the end of her path and disappeared through a portal.

Ezra kept running, the sound of the Emperor's evil cackle echoing through the void. He ran faster and faster, chased by a blue tendril of lightning that crackled behind him. He could see another portal coming up and then he passed through it. Into darkness. Where there was nothing.

No stars. No Sith Lords. No pathways.

Ezra stopped running, letting his legs carry him forward and slow down. And then finally, he leaned onto his knees to catch his breath.

 _"Dear child…"_  the mysterious voices returned. _"You already know the truth."_

Ezra turned to look for the source but the portal behind him was gone.

"Hello?" he called into the darkness.

 _"Whomever you're waiting for…"_  the voice echoed. _"…they're never coming back."_

"What?" Ezra turned abruptly, again and again, searching for something, anything but there was nothing he could see.

_"The belonging you seek is not behind you… it is ahead."_

_"Ezra…"_   he heard a familiar voice.

"Kanan?" he called out, quickly turning. 

And then a strong gust of wind knocked him clear off his feet. A bright white light erupted through the darkness.

 _"Ezra…"_  the voice grew distant and the light expanded.

He pulled up a hand to shield his eyes.

"Uurgh…" he groaned as fatigue gripped him.

The light grew brighter and he squinted. His head felt heavy and then he opened his eyes.

"Huh?"

A dark shape broke through the light for a moment.

 _"He's waking up,"_ an old man said. Green light pulsed through white as Ezra came to his senses.

"Vital signs look stable." An Imperial accent.

Ezra sat up abruptly and shook his head to regain his senses. The bridge of the Chimaera came into focus and he found himself surrounded. The pits were full of technicians and officers. Stormtroopers circled the perimeter. Two burly grey aliens stood guard either side of the walkway, battle staves in hand and Grand Admiral Thrawn loomed over them, a dark silhouette brightened by glowing Purrgil tentacles and two glittering red eyes.

"Mr Bridger," he said. "It is good of you to join us."

Ezra glared up at him hatefully and lifted his hands only to find them both trapped in binders.

"Urrgh," he struggled, trying to pull them apart.

"Release him," Thrawn said and Ezra locked eyes with the Chiss once more but the painfully neutral expression on his face gave no clues as to his secret plot. The cold embrace of the Purrgil didn't seem to bother him either.

"May I?" the old man beside Ezra said, holding up the key to his binders.

The young Jedi looked at him suspiciously, then back at Thrawn. The officer freed his hands and put the binders away.

"You may feel a little dizzy," the old Imperial said. "Nausea and vertigo are common side effects that should pass within the hour."

"You drugged me," Ezra hissed.

"Under my command," Thrawn said. "It was necessary to keep you from harming yourself and others. But now we're ready for you."

"Oh yeah?" Ezra called out, jumping to his feet and feeling his head spin.

The grey aliens stepped forward, ready to fight but Ezra had to take a step back to keep his balance.

"They're not going to fight you," Thrawn said calmly. "Captain, stand down."

The alien in front of him frowned deeply but took several steps back from Ezra and returned his staff to the holster on his back. The other did the same. Ezra recognised the species. It was the same race as Thrawn's assassin, Rukh.

"What's going on?" Ezra said.

"As you can see, we've been conducting repairs on the ship so that we may survive what is to come," Thrawn explained.

Ezra looked around the room at the cables and terminals, patched and open, electronics exposed. Close to forty Imperials manned the equipment and stood staring at him, occasionally glancing at the Grand Admiral for reassurance. Ezra could feel it in the Force. They were afraid.

"What are you talking about?" The young Jedi grabbed his head to keep it from spinning.

"We're going to leave hyperspace," Thrawn said simply. "And you're going to help us do so safely."

"I'm not helping you," Ezra spat. "You're a liar and murderer."

"Whatever my shortcomings, I imagine you do not wish to see these creatures hurt," Thrawn said testily as he turned his head.

"You wouldn't."

"If I was left with no other choice, I would fire all turbolasers upon on the Purrgil and force them to release the Chimaera, engage my own hyperdrive and escape. But there lies the risk of collision and imminent death," Thrawn said. "Fortunately, there is a scenario in which we all safely leave hyperspace and go our separate ways. But it requires your cooperation."

Ezra felt himself frowning. He didn't doubt Thrawn would make good on his threat. The Purrgil outside the view wall knew nothing of his plan, much like Ezra had no clue what was going on in his mind. A blast from an Imperial turbolaser point blank would do horrendous damage to each of the creatures, maybe even kill them.

"What do you want me to do?" Ezra said cautiously.

"Commune," Thrawn replied. "You obviously have some form of connection to these creatures. Tell them to leave hyperspace and then release the Chimaera."

"That's it?" Ezra smirked. "That's your big plan?"

"As I said before, the alternative poses far greater risk. We lose nothing by attempting to cooperate first."

The bridge was silent. Tense. Waiting. They were all clearly worried about this course of action and the Stormtrooper beside Thrawn looked up at him hesitantly before turning back to stare at Ezra.

"Promise you weren't hurt them," Ezra said.

"No harm will come to them if you cooperate." Thrawn nodded. "You have my word."

Ezra bit his lip. What other choice did he have? The Purrgil would have to leave hyperspace eventually and they couldn't keep dragging an Imperial Star Destroyer around forever. Perhaps it would be best if he did try to communicate with them. There wasn't much of an alternative. Thrawn had him outmanoeuvred, even if he himself was trapped by the cold embrace of Purrgil tentacles.

Ezra encouraged the Force to guide his decision but it had little to say on the subject, remaining entirely neutral and unhelpful.

_"The belonging you seek is not behind you… it is ahead."_

Ezra took a deep breath and let it all out.

"Fine," he said. "I'll do it."

Thrawn narrowed his eyes knowingly.

"Good."

Ezra frowned and looked left and right briefly. The Imperials' eyes followed him with suspicion. All except the old man beside him who seemed in no rush to pack his briefcase.

"Are you-"

"Officer Hague." He bustled with his instruments. "We spoke earlier." He smiled and closed the case. "We're counting on you," he said.

The old medic got up and drifted over toward Thrawn to exchange a few words about pain medication. Ezra watched curiously before kneeling down on the walkway. He sat back and closed his eyes, feeling the Force churning around them.

It was never so active in the grassy plains of Lothal. He always felt at peace there, no matter how crazy things got. But now the air felt tense. Gritted teeth and baited breath, hearts beating out of time, waiting, anticipating. Fear.

The Imperials were afraid. The aliens apprehensive. All except Thrawn, whose cold energy was hidden beneath the turmoil. He seemed quite calm despite his situation. A tranquil lake unbothered by the churning seas it touched and Ezra couldn't help but absorb some of that quiet confidence.

He spread the Force wide, feeling for the Purrgil beyond the viewports. The flock had responded to his call with an overwhelming force on Lothal but now they seemed quite content to keep doing what they were doing.

Ezra prodded further, trying to find one that would answer him and then all of them started projecting thoughts into his head all at once.

"Nnngh," he winced as his head was filled with unintelligible images.

 _"Please,"_ he thought, _"we need to leave hyperspace."_

The walkway beneath his feet trembled as a long, low whale call reverberated through the ship. And Ezra fell forward onto all fours.

 _"Please,"_ he thought louder, cutting through the noise, _"I don't want you to get hurt._ "

The Purrgil moaned in response, long and eerie calls that vibrated through durasteel, shaking the very foundations of the ship.

"Bridger?" he heard Thrawn's voice. "What are they saying?"

Ezra opened his eyes but it wasn't the bridge of the Chimaera that he saw. There was a swirling blue mass of energy.  _Hyperspace._   The word came and went. It rushed past him impossibly fast and then it ended in darkness. Empty space. Distant stars. And then a planet.

He fell towards it. Through the atmosphere, through the dark clouds and the trees, the forests and mountains and lakes. He watched the light mingle with the dark, watched them dance in an eerie twilight. And then he fell through the ground, through the earth. Into a cave. More water. Glowing insects flitting through the air...

 _"I sense a presence,"_  he heard a deep voice unlike any he'd heard before.

_"Yes. Another comes." A woman?_

_" **Bridger,"**_ he heard a voice from far away and it pulled him all the way back to the Chimaera with dizzying speed.

"We can't leave yet," Ezra felt his mouth say.

There was a loud murmur ringing through his ears. Human voices, Human hearts. Worry. Fear.

"Do not be afraid," his mouth uttered. "We will be there soon."

 _"Where?"_  he heard Thrawn's voice distinctly.

"Between the light and the dark. Where the Force finds balance."

 _"Sir, he's insane. We have to put a stop to this,"_  a new voice emerged.

_"I agree with Commander Laikan. The ship won't hold if the Purrgil continue shifting around like that."_

_"Then I'll kill the Jedi,"_ a deep voice growled. _"And the creatures."_

 _"No."_ It was Thrawn's voice this time. Calm. Measured. No louder than before, but the single word had enough authority to silence the bridge of Imperials in an instant.

 _"How much longer?"_   he asked.

"...almost there," Ezra felt himself say. "We're almost... there."

_"Interesting."_

_"Sir?"_

_"We appear to have a destination, Commander,"_   Thrawn said curiously. _"Begin plotting our exit vector."_

_"Uh… yes, sir. Lieutenant Lomar, get on the navicomputer."_

_"Already working on it,"_  another voice called out. _"Looks like we're headed toward Wild Space."_

_"Well, narrow it done. You might as well be telling me we're still in the same galaxy."_

_"Patience, Commander,"_  Thrawn said. _"Are we anywhere near the Unknown Regions, Lieutenant?"_

 _"I think we passed them a while ago, sir,"_ the worried voice drifted up from Ezra's right. _"We're back in Wild Space. The target system looks relatively empty. Which is good considering how fast we're travelling."_

 _"Relatively?"_ Thrawn picked up the detail.

_"Can't get a lock with our sensors jammed but it looks like there's at least one planet sized mass in the star system."_

_"Habitable?"_

_"Hard to say,"_   Lomar pondered. _"Pretty sure it's not gaseous… unless it's a high density gas…"_

 _"Oh. Well, that's reassuring,"_   Laikan said.

 _"Is everything in place?"_   Thrawn asked calmly.

_"Ready as we can be, sir."_

_"Excellent. All non-essential personnel, abandon the bridge."_

_"Sir?!"_   Laikan blustered.

 _"Anyone without specific orders to assist with emergency landing procedures is to immediately evacuate to the mid-section and find a safe place to secure themselves with gravity clamps,"_   Thrawn commanded.

The bridge went silent and Ezra opened his eyes to find the Imperials frozen in place. Not a soul moved a muscle and even the repair droids took pause from their work.

"That was an order," Thrawn said sternly.

"But… what about you?" Commander Laikan said.

"I do not require your immediate assistance," Thrawn said. "You would serve me by maximising your chances of survival."

Silence followed.

Ezra looked around curiously but none of the Imperials showed any intention of leaving their stations. They were all looking at Thrawn intently but none of them moved to follow his orders.

The young Jedi turned back to find a tiny smile infiltrate Grand Admiral's lips.

He closed his burning red eyes and opened them very deliberately.

"It is treason, then," he said.

Commander Laikan nodded.

"Very well. Prepare to leave hyperspace."

"Yes, sir!" the Imperials saluted loudly and Ezra flinched.

The sound had become ingrained in his mind, right beside the definition of tyranny and fear. It penetrated him down to the core every time and he felt chills whenever he heard it. But this one felt different somehow. Something in the Force perhaps? He couldn't explain it.

He got up and walked toward the smashed view wall, perforated by Purrgil tentacles. Thrawn looked down at him calmly.

"You should find shelter," he said.

Ezra shook his head, gesturing around the bridge incredulously.

"Where?"

"The mid section of the Chimaera is least damaged," Thrawn said. "I'm assuming you know how to use gravity clamps. They can be found in emergency stores all over the ship"

"Of course, I know how to use gravity clamps," Ezra smirked.

"Then go."

The Imperials exchanged odd glances with one another but none dared to object.

"Seriously?"

Thrawn nodded. "I guarantee we'll be experiencing a rough landing."

Ezra swallowed. He stared into those glowing red eyes for a few moments before gathering up the courage to turn his back on Thrawn, his officers and his Noghri bodyguards. He shuffled around the cables and tentacles and debris on the walkway and left the bridge through the emergency access panel that was thrown open.

"Are you sure about this?" Laikan said worriedly as the boy left. 

"There is no guarantee any of us will survive what is to come," Thrawn said, eyes glittering red. "And if we do, there will be nowhere to run."

The Commander sighed and looked back to find Bridger had disappeared.

"We're losing speed," Officer Dakaro called out.

"Power fluctuations from the hyperdrive."

"Sensor cluster receiving feedback."

"Ready on re-entry," Thrawn ordered.

Levers were pulled and settings were changed and engineers were informed many decks down that the time had come for their journey to end. 

Much of the Chimaera was no longer in working order. Two of the main engines would not restart and the primary reactor had been shut down to prevent critical overload. They were running on auxiliary power and emergency systems, communicating through the array inside a Lambda shuttle in the forward hangar. Ion cannons, turbo lasers and proton torpedos were likewise disabled.

They could not decelerate. They could not steer. They could not call for help. And they could not escape.

Herein, lied the trouble of landing an Imperial Star Destroyer on the nearest habitable planet. Doing so without killing the remainder of the crew was a miracle only one man in the galaxy was capable of. And not for the first time, the Chimaera's crewers were grateful that he was on the bridge.

The glow of the Purrgil tentacles intensified and began pulsing more and more frequently, as the Chimaera was hauled out through the billowing clouds of hyperspace by ancient space-faring giants.

"Assume brace positions!" Commander Laikan shouted over the distortion and fifty Imperials tugged at safety harnesses and grounded themselves onto equipment and durasteel floors, all feet secured with gravity clamps. Noghri commandos hung from the edge of each pit, waiting to assist.

Debris had been used to block the broken viewports and shield from stray hyperfield radiation. All essential equipment was now welded to the floor of the bridge. Holographic overlays and screens showed maps and live views of the what lay past the observation deck.

Suddenly, a blinding flash of light broke into starlines that shot past the Chimaera.

The ship trembled, the floors rattled and the crew inside lurched in their seats.

And then they were out. Drifting through the darkness of space, still held in the cold embrace of Purrgil on the bow.

The rest of the swarm emerged one by one around them - mauve beasts the size of dreadnoughts with long tentacles striped and glowing blue, leisurely flying toward a nebula in the distance ahead. A source of fuel and power, Thrawn observed on the overlays.

"We've left hyperspace."

"Location?" Thrawn prompted.

"Wild Space. Unmapped territory. No existing records of this hyperlane."

"You mentioned a planet?"

"Scans show it orbiting 9000 kilometres off the starboard bow."

"What about the creatures?"

"They're spreading out." Tebeni tapped her keypad and brought another overlay up in front of the Admiral. "Looks like they're racing towards the nebula."

His eyes studied the scan religiously. The many dots indicating Purrgil bodies in the space around them.

"They'll need to be persuaded-" he began before the tentacles holding him suddenly loosened around his body and he fell through into the newly made crevice.

"Admiral!" Laikan unclipped his harness and rushed to his aid as the tentacles slithered out through the viewports.

The Chimaera shuddered as the Purrgil released their grip and drifted away but the ship didn't stop moving.

"Block the remaining viewports," Thrawn ordered, appearing prone on the floor once the tentacles were gone. "Decelerate with what's left of the repulsors. All manouvering jets to bow, full power. Divert from engine six."

"Aye, sir!"

Laikan wrapped Thrawn's arm around his shoulders and pulled him up to drag towards his own seat. A Noghri quickly appeared to aid them and Officer Hague unclipped his own safety harness to scramble over.

"Admiral, can you feel this?" He squeezed two blue fingers together.

"No."

"No pressure?"

"Nothing." Thrawn shook his head. "Get me a tactical overlay."

"The creatures are scattering," Lomar called out. "We're still drifting toward the nebula. We can't decelerate fast enough."

"Get me those scanner readings!"

An officer tossed him a datapad and Laikan held it up for Thrawn while Hague jabbed yet another syringe into his arm.

"Manoeuvring jets and supplementary engines to port. Full power."

"That won't stop us."

"Prepare starboard tractor beam targeting array. Assign vector 2-2-7."

"But that's-"

"Grab onto it, Ensign."

Keys were pressed and parameters changed. Engineers were contacted and 78 seconds passed before Tebeni called out "Ready!"

"Activate tractor beam."

She pulled a lever and the tractor beam launched off the starboard bow to ensnare the nearest Purrgil in the Chimaera's projected web, capturing several tentacles but failing to move them.

"It's too strong," Tebeni called out. "It's pulling us towards it."

Thrawn nodded weakly.

"Divert power to Starboard aft auxiliary engine 4."

"Yes, sir."

The Chimaera lurched and slowly began to shift as the Purgill dragged it off course, moaning loudly at the inconvenience of tractor beams pulling its tentacles.

"We're turning," Laikan realised. "We're using the momentum of the creature to move the ship into position."

"Deactivate starboard tractor beam," Thrawn ordered. "Calibrate targeting array on both ends of the primary docking bay."

"Yes, sir."

The Chimaera let go of the Purgill which rocketed forward and away into the horde drifting towards the nebula ahead. More of the massive creatures streamed by the ship, above and below.

"Activate tractor beams."

"Aye, sir."

Two projections were fired directly down, ensnaring a Purrgil passing under the Chimaera's primary docking bay.

"It's a little big for us to reel in, Admiral," Ensign Tebeni said nervously as the Imperial Star Destroyer rocked and lurched forward, pulled by the creature like a space-faring chariot. 

"Let it bring us closer," Thrawn said, suddenly feeling a sharp stabbing pain in his extremities.

"Admiral?" Hague observed.

"I felt that," he said, twitching the fingers on his right hand. "Good."

"It may not feel that way in a moment," Hague warned.

"We're approaching the planet," Lieutenant Lomar called out. "7200 kilometres on Vector 1-1-2."

"Approach velocity?" Thrawn called out.

There was some rapid typing and calculating from the pits. 

"We're coming in too fast," Lomar said. "But our trajectory is almost perfectly aligned."

"You know when to let go," Thrawn said flatly.

Dakarro and Lomar looked at one another and nodded, beginning calculations. There was a brief opportunity in which the Chimaera could detach itself from the Purrgil and drift in a straight line toward the planet. And they worked zealously to find the optimal timeframe.

"I think I've got it," Dakarro said.

"Ready on tractor beams, Admiral," Tebeni called out.

"Release at your discretion, Ensign. Deactivate manoeuvring jets and repulsors. Maintain current bearing."

"Aye, sir." She pulled two levers and the tractor beams were deactivated, freeing the Purrgil to race ahead of the Chimaera, which began its much slower drift toward the unknown world.

"Status on the sensor array?" Thrawn said, feeling both hands stiffen and burn as blood pushed vessels open.

"Damaged but I think it's still working," someone called from the other pit.

"Planetary scan," Thrawn said evenly while biting down on the inside of his mouth.

"Breathable atmosphere. Surface is 68% water. Terrain varies but mostly temperate climates and forested areas."

"Possible landing sites?"

"Marking them down now, sir."

"ETA?"

"Just under six minutes."

The bridge fell silent, awaiting more orders but none came. Thrawn stared at the overlays showing the massive migration of Purrgil heading for the nebula at the other end of the system. The Imperial Star Destroyer drifted through them at a much more leisurely pace, not daring to accelerate as they approached the planet.

"We're still coming in too fast," Lieutenant Lomar reported.

"All manoeuvring jets to bow, full power," Thrawn said. Only a few remained functional and the drag wouldn't be enough to bring them to a complete stop but decreasing the overall speed of the Chimaera ought to be within their power and they had precious few options.

The crewers realised his orders and the ship began to slow, stabilised by navigation officers who kept a close watch on their angle and forward velocity.

And then a blip appeared on the scanners. Thrawn's burning red eyes narrowed as he identified the new threat. A stray Purrgil coming out of hyperspace, heading straight for them.

"Power-climb!" Thrawn ordered.

The bridge crew wasted no time, throttling the steering gear and firing up the engines to send the Chimaera rocketing upwards at his command.

The hull missed the giant creature's head by only several metres but it was enough to save the ship from total destruction. The Purrgil quickly passed by beneath them, rushing to catch up with the rest of the swarm and leaving the Chimaera to drift off course.

There was a collective sigh of relief on the bridge and Thrawn quietly suppressed a hiss as his hands twitched out of his control.

"What do we do now, sir?" 

"We-" the Admiral was interrupted by an urgent transmission from the engineering deck.

"Sir, we've lost two more engines on the starboard side."

"The Gemon-4s?"

"One of them and a KDY. We're down to one emergency engine on the port side."

Unfortunate. That meant they could no longer travel in a straight line. Only in circles if they wished. And at a velocity too fast to enter the planet's atmosphere safely.

"What do we do?"

"Power down." Thrawn closed his eyes, feeling the pins and needles turn into knives, stabbing at his hands and feet, his head.

He'd refused Hague's pain dampeners in order to retain the sharpness of his mind but now the pain was having the same blinding effect he wished to avoid. The Endies had fed oxygen and supplements to his body while it was constricted but now-

"Vector compromised. We're drifting off course," Lomar said.

If the Chimaera was unable to reach the planet, an endless journey through space awaited them. No means of navigating or defending themselves meant the first obstacle would likely be the last.

The ship was full of dying soldiers and hazards. They had to land. It was the only way.

Thrawn slowly opened his eyes.

"Activate the main reactor," he said.

"You want us to switch back to the main reactor?"

"No."

The crewers exchanged a quick glance at one another before resigning themselves to contacting engineering down in the lower decks.

The reactor had been switched off at Thrawn's own command to prevent overload. And with only one working engine, there was little reason to switch it back on. Or so they thought.

"Activation sequence initiated," the call came.

"Very good. Calibrate tractor beams on forward hangar bay."

Thrawn winced as the pain intensified.

"Admiral, I think now would be a good time to administer pain dampeners," Officer Hague demonstrated the readings on his medical scanner.

"No."

"Sir-"

"Commander Laikan, secure yourself."

The trooper nodded and went off to find the extra seat Thrawn had ordered them to prepare since his own was now occupied by the Admiral.

"You too, Hague," Thrawn said.

"Sir, I beg you to reconsider. The pain will only worsen. I recommend sedation for the next twelve hours at least."

"No." The word was final and unshakeable. "Go."

Hague reluctantly got to his feet. He looked down at the Admiral's hand, gripping tightly at the durasteel arm of his seat. He could swear it was buckling under those cold blue fingers.

"How about a battle stim then?" he sighed.

Thrawn looked up at him testily, then nodded.

Once again, Hague jabbed him with a needle but instead of Endies, it was liquid fire that entered his veins.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Hague muttered, leaving the Admiral's side to clamber away to safety.

Thrawn closed his eyes and opened them again, quickly finding the overlay with scanner readings in front of him. And sure enough, two blips had broken off from the largest mass.

The swarm of Purrgil which left hyperspace had made clear their course toward the nebula - a source of energy they would use to feed. But there were two that remembered the taste of hypermatter from the Chimaera's solar ionisation reactor. And it was far sweeter than any irradiated gas. Even Clouzon-36.

They were coming back.

"Engage the remaining engine," Thrawn ordered. "Bring us into orbit"

"What?"

The fire in his veins was painful but quickened the recovery rate of his limbs and he lifted his hand, manually tapping in the approach vector he wanted the Chimaera to take.

"Prepare to jettison the main reactor."

Knowing better than to argue, the crewers once again realised his orders. 

The Chimaera's singular working engine turned the ship slowly to circle back around the planet they had passed, still travelling far too quickly to make a safe landing.

"Gravity readings?" he called.

"Analysing..." 

The overlays before him were populated with numbers and projections, showing the orbit of the planet's dual moons which would have to be taken into account on approach. But thankfully, there was nothing abnormal about the gravity and once they were close enough, the one remaining engine would be all they needed to pilot themselves to ground.

"Speed on the reactor's emergency propulsion jets."

"Aye, sir," Tebeni called and once again, reaching out to the engineering crew for answers. "Got it."

The numbers went up on screen while two bright red blips began blinking on another.

The Purrgil were getting close. Edging toward the Chimaera much quicker than Thrawn anticipated but it would only work to serve them.

"On my command: jettison main reactor, activate tractor beams. Once attached to the creature, begin alignment of ship trajectory ten degrees down from the smallest moon's orbit," Thrawn said. "Release tractor beams once speed is reduced below atmospheric maximum and prepare to enter planetary gravitational field."

A moment of silence passed on the bridge as they attempted to comprehend his orders but there was no time to explain.

"Like a... reverse Defender Slingshot?" Tebeni said suddenly.

Thrawn had encouraged his pilots to use the manoeuvre when trying to capture pirate freighters with illegal speed enhancements. One TIE Defender would play decoy and run an enemy ship past two hidden Defenders with active tractor beams. Once the enemy way caught, the Defenders would rise and pull it off course, leaving it open for the third to return and open fire. Naturally, the humans likened this manoeuvre to a slingshot and named it accordingly.

It wasn't exactly the situation they faced now and perhaps Tebeni's description was a gross oversimplification of their plan of attack but it would do.

"Yes," Thrawn said. "The reactor will attract the creatures. Once it is jettisoned, they will follow, and we, will use their speed to mitigate our own, adjust our trajectory and begin orbiting to land. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," a few more crewers called out. 

"ETA to impact."

"4 minutes 28 seconds."

"Ready on reactor controls."

"Ready!"

"Ready on remaining thrusters, repulsors and manoeuvring jets."

A far less enthusiastic call of "Ready," went up as the status of each of those systems were rendered in list form on the overlay. More than 80% of the board was non-functional and what remained was barely holding together but Thrawn had seen ships landed in worse condition. It was all a matter of timing and skill, which the Chimaera's crew had in spades.

"Ready on tractor beams," he called.

"Ready!"

"2 minutes fifteen seconds to impact."

Thrawn studied the screen, watching the approach and running the numbers in his head for the seventh time. All was in place. They just had to wait a little longer. Just a few more seconds.

"Now!"

The Chimaera shuddered as the clamps of the solar ionization reactor were retracted and the massive device engaged its own repulsors to drift away from the hull. 

"Steady," Thrawn called over the bridge as the force nudged them off course. 

The Purrgil had left the swarm and beelined for the Chimaera, catching up in time to follow its orbit around the unknown planet. But before they could reach it and once again wrap the durasteel in their cold embrace, the ship jettisoned its own reactor and sent it flying toward the planet, just short of collision trajectory. 

The massive creatures broke their formation to swoop past the Chimaera either side of the bow and join together in pursuit of the reactor now travelling at speed.

"Tractor beams."

Levers were pulled and buttons were pressed and the Chimaera cast two projections from its forward hangar to ensnare the rippling tentacles passing the ship.

The crew were silent despite the force that pulled the Imperial Star Destroyer into position, and rattled everything inside it. Every sentient stared daggers into overlays, waiting for the split second during which the Chimaera had to detach from the Purrgil, lest they carry them off course once again.

Thrawn studied the overlays passively. The numbers lined up and he didn't have to say a word.

Tebeni pulled the release on the tractor beams exactly 3.1 seconds before the optimal time frame, allowing for the delay between the bridge and the device. 

The projection field disappeared and the Chimaera drifted onto the right trajectory, slowly approaching the gravitational field that would pull them toward the planet.

The Purrgil left them be, chasing the solar ionisation reactor into the distance as its repulsors carried it off into space.

And then they waited. In the cold, quiet darkness, as the planet before them grew closer. Green and blue and mostly covered in water. It seemed habitable. Promising. A refuge if they could make to the surface.

"Are there any settlements?"

"None that our scanners can detect at this point. No communications either, but that could be our problem."

"Very well. Prepare to enter gravitational field," Thrawn called out.

And so it began, their desperate attempt to maintain control as the planet pulled them in towards itself.

"We're coming in too slow," Lomar called out. "It's gonna pull us into a nosedive at this rate."

The starship lurched again, though not so harshly and the overlays showed the Chimaera drifting closer toward the planet, gaining speed, but not in a favourable direction.

"Activate the remaining engine and all working repulsors to bring us into orbit."

"We're unbalanced, we can only drift drift a few degrees starboard of true north."

"Enough to keep us in orbit," Thrawn's voice gained a sharp edge as the pain briefly intensified.

With clear orders, the Chimaera engaged its final emergency sublight thrusters to increase their forward velocity, balancing their momentum against the planet's gravity, sending them into continuous orbit.

"We did it!" Dakarro called out and Thrawn observed the humans around him smile.

"Planetary scan," he called out. "Identify possible landing sites factoring in the current status of our propulsion systems."

"Aye, sir."

"There's plenty of open spaces in the northern hemisphere but we won't make it."

"We'd have to wait until our orbital path lines up with those points but projections show it could take hours or even days to get in position."

"We don't have that long," Dakarro called out. "The engine's holding on by a roll of flex tape."

"Can we land in the Southern Hemisphere?" Thrawn broke through the chatter.

"The land mass is way smaller and harder to reach. We'd have to come in relatively low and hit hard to get the maximum stopping distance before hitting a major body of water."

"But we're almost in position for descent," Tebeni pointed out.

"This one," Thrawn selected a landing site from the many glowing points on the map. "Prepare for landing."

But before the crewers could respond, the Chimaera lurched again pushing them deeper into their seats and Thrawn could not suppress a hiss of pain.

"The engine's gone!" Dakarro called out.

"Recycle power through all auxiliary generators and throttle the ignition."

The Chimaera began an alarmingly swift descent towards the planet's surface without any form of forward propulsion or deceleration. If the bow of the mile-long starship tipped anywhere below fifteen degrees down, they would nosedive into the nearest ocean.

"Ensign!" Thrawn called.

"They're trying but all the engines have sustained heavy damage. They don't know which to start fixing."

"We don't have time for that!"

"We only need one," Thrawn said. "Redirect power and throttle the main ion thruster."

"But it was the first to be disabled!"

"That'll never work. Better to try the emergency engines."

"That was an order!"

And so it was relayed to engineering, who gathered power from all of the ships remaining generators, to throttle the Destroyer-I ion engine in the centre aft. Its position made it the easiest to reach and connect to every available power outlet in the ship but in 0.005% of cases, it would stall when activating all of them simultaneously.

Thrawn had observed this only once at the Kuat Drive Yards when one of Commodore Relegin's ships lost its main thruster during a special operation and had to be towed. Once arrived, however, the technicians found nothing wrong with the vehicle and upon reboot of the ship's systems, the engine ignited as it had countless times before.

It was, of course, completely possible that the Chimaera's main thruster had failed due to some other reason or fault but having studied Commodore Relegin's tactics and combat style, it was clear that he favoured a full-throttle approach, much like the one which had been used in an attempt to free the Chimaera in the early stages of its battle again the Purrgil swarm.

The bridge was silent for those twenty eight seconds in which they waited to hear the most dreaded news from engineering down below. And just as the Chimaera's bow pointed two degrees short of devastatingly low, the whole ship lurched and righted itself once again.

"It worked!" Tebeni called out.

"Watch our speed. Throttle only to mitigate gravitational pull. Decrease forward velocity to atmospheric maximum," Thrawn ordered, feeling the pins and needles reach his chest, setting his heart aflame. He tasted blood in his mouth, having bitten through flesh, trying to stifle discomfort.

"Aye, sir," the crewers called out and set about the task of slowing the massive durasteel behemoth they rode toward land.

Thrawn skimmed the overlays, finding favourable readings despite their situation. His eyes darted past the screens and found the humans and aliens in better spirits. Some were even close to smiling. Determined, yet focused. That's what he needed right now.

The planet came closer, growing larger beyond the viewport they'd blocked for fear of radiation upon freedom from Purrgil. Their orbit had become a slow downward spiral which lined up perfectly with the landmass Thrawn had selected for their landing.

"Approaching atmosphere. T-minus 2 minutes, 7 seconds."

"Speed?"

"1053 kilometres per hour, sir. Should we engage repulsors and manoeuvring jets to bow?"

"No," Thrawn struggled to say. He took a deep breath. A drop of sweat trailed down his face and he stopped to regard it, uncommon as it was for him to perspire under pressure.

"Save them for re-entry," he called out. "All personnel, brace for impact."

They did so, preparing for the sudden hit as the ship entered the planet's atmosphere. The force lashed the bow which buckled and bent, already deformed from its encounter with the Purrgil. It grew red hot and several panels came off, girders and durasteel flying past the bridge in quick succession.

"We're coming in hot!" Lomar called out. 

"Switch to atmospheric thrusters and release ailerons. Activate emergency air brakes once speed breaks 900 kilometres per hour."

"Atmospheric thrusters damaged. Forward repulsor coil: non-responsive."

"Divert power to aft. Increase pitch to compensate."

"Aye, sir."

The ship trembled and shook, every minuscule air current like a wave washing over the runaway starship that somehow remained afloat in the sky above the mysterious planet. There wasn't much to be seen through the blocked up viewports but the terrestrial readings confirmed the atmosphere was breathable and the weather conditions habitable. Favourable indicators, should they survive to appreciate them.

Gravity began forcing itself through the cracks in their ray shields and cold gusts of air penetrated the transparisteel. The bridge grew chilly and Thrawn could see frost forming on the back of his hand, despite the heat he felt raging inside it.

"875 kilometres per hours," Lomar called out and the crewers in charge of atmospheric piloting took control.

The Chimaera engaged emergency air brakes to slow its course, quickly hurtling toward ground in a mostly controlled spiral.

Imperial Star Destroyers were not manufactured to land on the surface of planets and rarely entered orbit, if only to intimidate the natives. All ion engines had to be switched off to avoid radioactive contamination and damage to natural habitats. In these cases, the ship would use its massive repulsor coils to stay afloat, mitigating the planet's gravity.

However, the Chimaera's forward repulsor coil had been successfully crushed by three Purrgil and its aft repulsor coils weren't doing much better. Thrawn had commanded them to face forward, creating drag and lowering their speed, which meant they were rapidly losing lift.

Atmospheric thrusters could theoretically sustain them and bring them to ground but it didn't take long for another to fail. A message from engineering brought the news up to the bridge which was being battered by winds. Its structure was the least aerodynamic part of the Star Destroyer and proved to be an effective air flap in its own right, to the detriment of its occupants.

Thrawn hissed quietly and let go of the arm of his seat to find his fingers had dented the steel. He'd bitten his lip in half but the pain was only getting worse. Hague had warned him about the side effects but he had to see this through. No matter the squalls.

_A warrior's path is filled with pain. He walks it regardless, for that is his duty._

"We're down to 465 kilometres per hour," Dakarro called out.

"T-minus 4 minutes 18 seconds to impact."

"Minimise thruster output," Thrawn called to them. "Keep the bow pitched up."

The orders were met with nods and acknowledgement and the Chimaera continued to descend.

"Blast!" Lomar called out. "Who plotted this vector?! We're heading straight for a mountain."

"What? I checked it three times," Dakarro called back. 

"I changed it," Thrawn quelled the argument.

"Sir?"

"Clearance within one hundred metres."

"One hundred metres?!"

"Stay on course."

No one dared argue but stress overtook the bridge. A single miscalculation or malfunction, a misstep could prove fatal. The entire ship was miraculously holding together but the mountain Lomar had pointed out was more than capable of ending their journey in the most spectacular of failures.

The overlays showed approach and breaths were held.

The nameless mountain passed under them just barely, scratching the hull with its peak.

Thrawn had changed the route deliberately, leveraging the crew's skill to gain an increase in stopping distance.

"278 kilometres per hour."

They were still coming in too fast.

Repulsor lifts and air brakes and ailerons were all well and good in normal circumstances but at speed, they failed to meet Thrawn's most rigorous expectations and the readings were just shy of his initial estimates. They were approaching the worst case scenario, but there was nothing that could be done to mitigate the fallout.

The Chimaera trembled again, and the durasteel panels haphazardly welded to the bridge flew off, revealing the frail ray shields that had kept them alive so far, barely holding back against the howling wind.

The planet came into view, its sky overcast and grey below them. Mountains peaked out of the clouds. Sunlight bore down but did not penetrate them. And Thrawn thought he saw the flicker of a distant Purrgil tendril but it may have been a trick of the light.

"Brace!"

The Chimaera dove into the clouds and the view wall was covered in unspilled rain for several seconds.

No sentients had been detected in their preliminary scans but as the hull of the Imperial Star Destroyer breached the clouds and covered the world below in a mile-long shadow, flocks of birds rose up in the distance and animals began to call and flee. A thunderous roar boomed through the plains and adjacent valleys as the ship fell from the sky, desperately trying to slow its descent.

"Repulsor lifts to ground! Full power!" Thrawn called, as if it would make any difference at this point.

The Chimaera crashed. Hard. The force reverberating through the hull, the decks, the ships, the engines, the crewers, all of it, down to the very core. 

The cracks left behind by Purrgil tentacles split open and pieces snapped off, flying aside as the massive heap of durasteel kept going, kept sliding across the ground, crushing trees and soil and everything in its path.

The communications towers over the bridge were torn off and the Command Tower itself began to sheer halfway up. And the farther they travelled, the worse it got.

Two pairs of gravity clamps failed and the attached Ensigns went sent flying. One, however, was caught by Captain Bruahir and thrown down into the starboard pit.

The rest of crew braced and did their best to endure the G-forces but as the Chimaera slowed and came to a stop, it became clear how few would actually survive the ordeal.

None of them remained conscious to witness the final moments of the landing. 

And none of them could guess what awaited on the other side.


End file.
